Journey
by DrunkenGrognard
Summary: A sequel to Grand Tour. The Inner Senshi are off to Mid-Childa in pursuit of magical training, leaving the Outers to 'hold the fort' with a little help from a TSAB agent - Ranma Saotome. They aren't the only ones thinking of training...
1. Chapter 1

_Ye Olde Disclaimer: I own none of the universes this wanders though. This story is meant entirely as tribute and entertainment and no claim is made on any characters created by other authors. I am far too poor to be worth suing over this._

-Chapter 1-

Nabiki Tendo lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was struggling with many thoughts. Outside, Ranma and Genma were bouncing each-other around the back yard. Ranma hadn't lost a single sparring match since coming home from space. The fights were close, but only because Ranma wasn't pushing things, even less than he normally did. It had been a month and a half since his return.

The house shook for a moment as one of them, Genma by the sound of the accompanying yell, bounced off a wall. Absently, she noted that she'd need to charge one of them for repairs. It was hard to concentrate on things like that, though. It was hard to get excited about it being the last day of school, even.

Years ago, before their mother had died, Soun Tendo had taught the martial arts to all three of his daughters. Akane had the most potential – something that had annoyed Nabiki immensely when she was younger – but they were all learning well. Nabiki had put a lot of time and effort into learning, for she'd looked up to her father, and had thought that he could accomplish anything. She remembered a night when the five of them had been heading to a restaurant for a meal out, and a pack of crooks robbed a store just up the street. Her father had taken down the entire pack of robbers in moments, and had received a very respectful bow from the police officer leading the response.

At the time, she'd decided that she would follower her father's example anywhere. That resolve and respect held through the intervening years, and their mother's death. It even held through the first time he staggered home, so drunk he could barely walk. It didn't hold much longer, however. Without their mother, Soun crumbled into a pale parody of his old self. If his martial arts, which seemed to be the focus of his life, couldn't help him hold at least a little bit together, perhaps it wasn't worth studying. And so she'd stopped. Kasumi stopped training because she had so much more to do in the house. Only Akane continued, until Soun declared her training complete and stopped bothering to even work on that.

She'd turned her back on the dreams she'd had about the martial arts and what they could do. She'd rejected studying it and most of what she'd learned. She'd pushed towards self reliance, and that had pushed her to money. That had led her back towards martial arts a bit, but mostly by way of taking advantage of it as a bookie. She knew enough to pick out the good fighters from the bad better than most, which had made it easier and more reliable to make money off of fights.

She'd been happy enough concentrating on money and ignoring any other real pursuit of the martial arts. Let the fighters who were making her money waste their time training, deluding themselves into thinking they could do anything, _she_ knew better. She would profit from their delusions. Ranma had shaken that up a bit, with his raw level of skill, but ultimately he was just another fighter, simply one she could make more money off of.

That had changed when he'd come home from an adventure in space, and shown the ability to _fly_. Watching that – and seeing that it was no trick, he was actually, honest-to-kamis, flying under his own power... It had surprised her and reminded her of her old dreams. Especially when she'd asked him later and learned it wasn't magic but an extension of his martial arts; and using ki.

Which meant that, conceivably, she could learn how to do it herself.

She could already manipulate ki a little, that was how Soun's Oni Head technique worked, and she'd learned to do that a few years back. She had the basics down, she could probably learn more, possibly enough to master whatever technique Ranma used to fly. She doubted it would be easy. But a little girl's dreams were crying out with great enthusiasm, and the little girl in her wanted desperately to follow them.

---------------------------

Ami Mizuno tried not to sigh as she looked around her room. She was packing, preparing to head off on a trip to another world to learn more of magic over the summer break. But she was having trouble getting really excited about it. This was going to play utter hell with her academic studies. She'd wanted to get a few courses in this summer, but that wasn't happening now.

She gave in to the urge to sigh as her communicator _beep_ed at her. "Ami here."

Usagi sounded a bit down. Given that it was the last day of school that was not what she'd expected. "Hey Ami. Are you ready for this little trip?"

"Almost. I'm making sure I have everything I'll need. Hopefully I won't forget anything." A pause. "I'd expected you to be happier – end of the school year and all."

Usagi sighed. "We're heading off to study somewhere. It'll probably be all bookwork or something. I didn't want to go to summer school."

"It was described as magical combat training. I don't see a way to teach much of that in a classroom, Usagi."

"Luna doesn't think so, or that this will be any use."

Ami sighed. Luna and Artemis both had been, to put it politely, sceptical that any other group of mages could teach the reincarnated scions of the Moon Kingdom anything about magic. "Luna didn't see what Subaru and Teana could do. These people know a lot about magic. And learning some of it won't hurt us."

Usagi moaned. "You'd probably prefer all classwork. I knew I should've called Rei."

"Usagi... it'll be okay. Look, think of the travel and stuff." She smiled faintly. "And think about this: lots of new and different food."

There was a long pause as the blonde contemplated those words. "That... is a good point." A pause, and her tone was unsure as she continued. "Still... what if something happens while we're gone, and we're needed here?"

"Well, the Outers are staying behind, and the TSAB did say they were going to get an agent of theirs to keep an eye on things just in case. Besides, we've asked Setsuna a dozen times to check the Time Gates. Nothing major is going to happen this summer."

------------------

The last day of class had gone fairly well for Ranma. Other than a swift, perfunctory fight with Tatewaki Kuno on the way in and a briefer one on the way out, nothing violent had happened to him. And really, Kuno didn't count for trouble. He was a hell of a kendoist, but his skills were limited beyond that.

On the whole, Ranma was a bit depressed. He'd kinda-sorta-halfassed planned to do a bit of a training trip over the summer break, probably to China. Partly, he wanted to see if he had the endurance to make the flight – keeping a ship or two below in sight just in case. Partly, it would give him a chance to get out of the usual mayhem of Nerima. Mostly, he wanted to track down Herb for a rematch. He suspected the dragon-blooded prince would be impressed as all hell, and Ranma wanted to see if he could learn a trick or two from him.

Then he'd gotten a call from the TSAB. He was keeping the comm pendant on at all times, The translation spell in it alone meant it was worth its weight in platinum, and it looked valuable enough that he didn't want to leave it out where Nabs or his father might be tempted to swipe it. He figured it would be helpful the next time he went off training, using its translator rather than relying on his, or his father's, piss-poor command of any language that wasn't Japanese. That way, he would probably be able to avoid, say, cursed training grounds.

So when the TSAB wanted to bring him in to help deal with some kind of security thing, they'd gotten ahold of him very quickly. Some local powered group was sending half their number to Mid-Childa for training, but were concerned about the safety of Tokyo. So the TSAB were getting Ranma to help cover things. They hadn't said outright who the group was, but under the circumstances, Ranma figured it was probably the Senshi. He didn't know all that much about them, magical girls hardly being something appropriate for a manly man to take interest in, but he knew they were the self-proclaimed guardians of Tokyo. Working with them would be a pain, but probably not too bad. Supposedly they fought demons a lot. Demons were always a challenge.

They were also going to be paying him a decent sum, which made things a bit better. And while his summer wasn't exactly going to be going to plan, when did anything in his life go according to his plans?

-----------------

Akane Tendo hurried home. She didn't really have any plans for the afternoon beyond meeting with her friends for some general girl-time. She didn't have any plans in general for the summer break beyond enjoying herself for a while.

She exchanged pleasantries with Kasumi as she walked into the Tendo house and bounded up the stairs to get out of her uniform and into some casual clothes. On the way back down the stairs, she heard something in the dojo – sounds of exertion. It didn't sound like Ranma – and as best she knew he was going to be sparring with Ryoga for a while before coming home – and it didn't sound like Father or Genma. Slightly hesitant, she opened the door.

Nabiki, clad in her gym clothes, was working her way through a kata. Surprised to see her older sister doing _anything_ martial arts related that didn't involve bookmaking after all these years, she stood, dumbfounded, and watched.

Her sister's prowess wasn't as great as she remembered it, probably a combination of her own growth in skill, and Nabiki being long out of practice. She still hadn't found her voice again when Nabiki finished the kata, and noticed her.

"Hey, sis."

"Hey, Nabiki. What're you up to?"

Her older sister actually looked... defensive for a moment. "What? A girl's not allowed to pick up an old hobby again?"

Akane shrugged. "Well, no, but, I never really expected to see it. You were pretty nasty to Daddy when you quit training."

Nabiki started into another kata. "I suppose I was. I guess I've changed my mind since then."

Akane was feeling genuinely curious now. "Any particular reason?"

Nabiki continued in silence for a moment. Then, "Seeing Ranma pull off some genuine superhero stuff."

"What, you mean like the flying?"

"Yeah." Nabiki completed the kata in silence. She glanced again at her sister, who was lost in thought. "A girl can dream."

"Do you think you can actually learn that stuff yourself, Nabiki?"

"No." The sheer honesty of the answer surprised Akane for a moment. "But I don't think I'll have to do it myself. I'm going to ask Ranma to teach me."

"Why would you want to learn from that _baka_?" Akane heard a bit of anger leak into her tone, and tried to force it down.

Nabiki's tone had a bite to it. "Can you name any _other_ martial artists capable of powered flight? Specifically, ones who don't _hate_ us?" An odd look crossed her older sister's features. "I'm not going to try and take over the engagement or steal him away or anything like that, Akane."

Akane felt her face flush as she blurted out, "Why would I care if you did? I don't care about him!" Not wanting to continue the argument, she fled the dojo, but not before seeing the expression of disappointment on Nabiki's features. _Why should she care? It's not her problem. It's not a problem at all! He's just a stupid boy and I don't care about him that way._

----------------

Though he didn't know it at the time, Ranma was very fortunate that he hadn't come straight home. Running into Akane in her current mood would have been more than a little painful.

He and Ryoga had planned to spar for a while after school, but that had fallen through. Ryoga, still quite enjoying not worrying about getting lost while walking down the street, had been called in to his new job a couple hours early. Ranma found Ryoga's simple joy at basic stuff like holding a job kinda funny. He gave it another couple weeks before his friend was back to normal. Probably. Either way, Ranma was glad he was having fun.

As he walked back to Nerima, lazily ambling along a fencetop, it occurred to him that Ryoga might mess himself up enjoying life. He generated most of his ki from his depression. The happier he was, the less he would have to work with.

After a long moment of wondering, Ranma chuckled. Ryoga was his best rival, and it would not be in his best intrests to let that rival lose the ability to challenge him. He figured he'd help Ryoga to work on a better way to generate ki and otherwise fight effectively. But he'd let the fanged boy find out he had a problem the hard way.

He still owed Ryoga for some of his antics back on Midland.

--------------------

Ami wasn't quite sure how they'd all managed to do it, but all of the Inner Senshi had convinced their parents and guardians to let them go for this little trip, but she imagined Setsuna's help had a fair bit to do with it. Her mother had been pleased to hear that Ami planned to go on an academic retreat, which was at least not a total lie.

The Inners and Outers were gathered in a small park. They were expecting a TSAB ship to meet them here shortly. While they waited, most of the others were chating. Ami sat on a bench next to her bags and pulled out the physics textbook she'd be going through next semester at school. Learning more about magic and how to use it was all to the good, but she wasn't going to let this interfere with her studies more than was absolutely necessary.

"Wish I'd thought to bring a book."

Ami glanced up. Minako had wandered from the main group to the bench she had chosen. The blonde sat beside her as Ami marked her place and closed the textbook. "I'd offer to loan you one, but all I brought was textbooks."

"None of your romance novels?" Minako's grin could best be described as impish.

Ami shot her a look. "Not this trip. I'm hoping this training is going to be as in-depth as Teana implied. I might not even have enough time to get through these texts."

Minako shrugged. "I suppose. I just hope it's not going to be insanely complicated. Lots of practical training would be more helpful for me and Makoto and Rei."

"To say nothing of Usagi."

The blonde smiled. "No kidding. She's probably going to complain the whole time, even though coming along was her idea." The two giggled for a moment as they looked at Usagi, easier than usual to pick out of the crowd: she was hand-in-hand with Mamoru and the two were conversing in hushed tones.

"Did he say why he couldn't come?" Ami asked, nodding towards the young man.

"Couldn't get time off work, he said." Minako shrugged. "I don't think he tried all that hard, and I know he didn't ask Setsuna for help."

"The Outers didn't think much of the offer, either. I suspect they didn't look at much of what I recorded on Subaru and Teana."

"Yeah. You'd think the _giant magical spaceship_ might have had at least some effect on their thinking." She took a drink from her bag. "I guess we'll see how this turns out."

Ami's reply was cut off as another figure appeared at the edge of the park clearing. It was an unfamiliar male in red and black, who walked up and said, "You folks waiting for the TSAB?" He waved at Makoto. "Hey Makoto. Been a while."

The tall Senshi waved back, an uneasy smile on her face. "Hi Ranma. What brings you to this end of town?"

He walked boldly into the clearing, hopped onto the back of a bench and squatted there, seemingly ignoring Haruka, Setsuna, Hotaru, and Michiru moving behind him as the Inners fanned out before him. "Here to meet a spaceship. Same as you folks, I think." He smiled, a cocky grin, and said, "I got a call from the ship about twenty minutes ago. They ran into something called a 'minor snafu' that's slowed 'em down gettin' here. Lieutenant Forsythe said to say he'd be here in a few."

"I'm sure we don't know what you're talking about," said Setsuna.

"Of course ya don't. That secret identity crap." Ranma chuckled, head shaking as if at a private joke.

A look bounced around the gathered Senshi. By unspoken agreement, Makoto spoke up, stepping forward and in front of the martial artist. "Okay, Ranma. Lets say we _are_ waiting for a spaceship. Why would we want you around?"

Ranma laughed aloud. "The way I heard it, you asked the TSAB to help. I'm the help."

There was a small stir at that. Setsuna said, "But you're native to this world. What kind of connection could you have them?"

"They drafted me to help deal with something a couple months back."

Further conversation was paused as a loud beep sounded from inside Setsuna's purse. An awkward silence stretched for several seconds, marred by the beep repeating and Ranma snickering. Another look bounced around the circle, several of the Senshi looking to Makoto, who shrugged. Setsuna sighed, and pulled a TSAB communicator out of her purse. "Hello?.. Good evening, Lieutenant... Yes, we're at the agreed site. There's a possible complication, someone claiming to be your agent... Yes, that is the name he gave... I see. No apologies needed, Lieutenant, I should have asked beforehand... We'll be happy to see you."

The Senshi of Time stowed the communicator, quickly schooling her features into impassivity. A wave of blue light shone briefly at the clearing's center, disgorging three figures in TSAB uniforms. Ranma hopped down from his perch on the bench's back and gave a vague salute. "Heya, Lieutenant."

"Agent Saotome." He turned towards the Senshi, who had moved into a group again. "Good evening ladies, gentleman," he said, that last with a nod at Mamoru. "I apologize for our tardiness. It looks like you have your bags here. If you're ready, we can get everything loaded up, and head for Mid-Childa. Agent Saotome, Miss Meioh, a brief word?"

The Lieutenant, Setsuna, and Ranma moved a bit away from the group. Ami picked up her bag again. She moved it to the small pile of luggage at the center of the clearing, then removed one device and walked over to Setsuna.

"..We aren't expecting any trouble, though your offer of assistance is certainly appreciated." The green-haired woman glanced at Ranma. "But honestly, we were expecting a mage, not a martial artist. I'm not sure what use he might be against the kind of enemies we fight."

"You fight demons right? I've fought demons before. They ain't so tough." There was a... surety to his tone beyond simple bravado.

Lieutenant Forsythe made a placating gesture, shot Ranma a look. "Agent Saotome is highly skilled, ma'am. He should be able to assist you in the defence of this city should it be needed."

Setsuna sighed. "Of course. He has a communicator?"

"Yep." Ranma pulled a pendant out of his shirt; Ami recognized it as being similar to some she'd seen aboard the _Claudia_.

Ami stepped behind Ranma, who glanced in her direction. "Agent Saotome? You might need this." She handed him the device she'd brought.

"Uh, thanks. What's this?"

"A youma detector. It should alert you to any youma that might attack your area."

"Cool! Thanks." He started fiddling with it. Ami exchanged nods with Setsuna and walked to the others.

"Lieutenant?" began Usagi, "We're ready whenever you are."


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: not my characters, no claim to 'em and no profit involved. Far too broke to be worth suing over this._

-Chapter 2-

"So what is that thing?"

Ranma glanced up from the device, sitting on the table, to Akane. "It's a monster-detector."

Akane looked at the small device. "How does it work?"

"I dunno. 's magic." He shrugged. "The Senshi who handed it to me didn't even tell me how ta turn the thing on."

"So how do you know it's even working?" Akane was more than a little annoyed that Ranma had gotten to meet the Senshi and hadn't taken her along.

"Well, the little flashie lights are probably a good sign." He grinned. "Why doncha cook somethin? That oughta set if off."

Akane shot him a venomous glare and stalked away. Ranma chuckled.

"That was hardly nice, Ranma." Kasumi's tone was more cheerful than reproachful.

"Aw, Kasumi, you know I don't mean it."

"I may know it, but she might not." A faint grin. "And her cooking is bad, but it's hardly that bad." Ranma met her grin.

"Couldn't resist."

For a moment the only sound in the room was Kasumi cleaning, then she asked, "So. What are the Senshi like?"

Ranma shrugged. "Didn't get much of a chance to meet 'em. You remember Makoto Kino?" He caught Kasumi's nod. "She's one of 'em. Guess that explains why she dropped out of the martial arts scene a while back. Didn't recognize any of the others, really. They seemed like a nice enough bunch." He shrugged. "They weren't thrilled to see me. I guess they figured they were gettin' a mage for backup. Us martial artists ain't good enough for 'em."

"To be fair, if the only martial artist in their group is miss Kino, they might just be assuming your ability is equivalent to hers."

Ranma nodded. "Point. Guess I'll just wait for a monster to pop up or somethin' and show 'em what I can do." They both chuckled at that.

"Do you expect that you'll be doing a lot of fighting?"

"Dunno. The lead Senshi wasn't expecting much, but kamis know weird stuff happens around me. Even if no monsters show up I'm gettin' paid a decent per-diem." A cockeyed grin. "Besides. This is Nerima. Somethin'll show up lookin' for a fight, even if it ain't youma."

"This neighbourhood does seem to attract more than its fair share of weirdness. Moreso since you and Genma arrived, I think."

"I blame the panda."

----------------

"Anything on the Time Gates?"

"Nothing. Just as well, really. We could use some peace and quiet." Setsuna glanced across the room to Haruka. "You're something of a martial artist, aren't you? Do you know anything about him?"

"Not really." The blonde shrugged. "He's supposed to be some kind of powerhouse, but you've heard the stories about Nerima. I don't believe even a quarter of what they say. He's probably better than Makoto, but that isn't exactly saying a lot."

"Be fair, Haruka," began Michiru, "Makoto is quite good by normal standards. It's just, well, against the things we fight, normal just doesn't cut it."

Hotaru spoke up, "Have you tried looking him up in the Time Gates?"

Setsuna nodded. "I did. Minimal education, long periods of time in the wild, near constant training, I believe in multiple martial arts styles, though admittedly I don't know enough about the martial arts to really tell."

"And the TSAB thinks this guy is going to be useful?" Haruka shook her head. "A muscleheaded thug. Hopefully it'll be a boring month before the Inners get back."

"It should be."

--------------------

The ship was far more cramped than _Claudia_ had been.

_Claudia_ was a warship, designed to do unto others with style and swiftness. Big, bold, powerful, she was as much an announcement of the Time-Space Administration Bureau, a demand that they be respected, as she was a weapon of war. _Miriel_ was a courier boat, a modified escort frigate according to her commander, Lieutenant Forsythe. She ferried messages and people across vast tracts of space and/or dimensions and did so quickly. The run from Earth to Mid-Childa had taken, perhaps, a day.

The ship had no proper observation deck, but Forsythe had allowed the Senshi onto the bridge as they navigated their way into the orbital docks. The bridge was cozy enough with just its normal watch of five, with five more it was positively cramped, but the sheer innocent joy and wonder on the faces his charges made it worth it. The bridge crew did not begrudge them the crowding; each could remember his or her own first trip into space.

They'd watched with rapt attention as the frigate delicately nosed into the dockyard, following the deceptively chaotic swirl of traffic around the stations and ships and construction scaffolds. One of them, the quiet, blue haired one named Ami, had asked a near constant string of questions, gaze alternating from the viewport to the navigation display and its overlay from the Traffic Control Authority, applying intricate choreography to the movement of ships, tugs, and materiel.

Forsythe knew that such a display would look like brightly coloured nonsense to the untrained eye; it had certainly seemed so to him when he'd been a wet-behind-the-ears midshipman. In her eyes he recognized a desire to learn that he'd had himself, a swift intelligence in her questions, and felt a little more respect for these outsiders. They seemed to want to learn. That, he knew, was the key of this kind of arrangement.

He remembered being that young. Pride, awkwardness, trying to learn from those around him without seeming the fool. He'd survived his time as a middy, and had become a fair officer. _Miriel_ was as much ship as he wanted, though if he tried he could doubtless rise to a combat or explorer corps command. Not far beyond, though; for all it tried to be a meritocracty, the TSAB considered magical ability to have vastly more merit than he, a non-mage, considered reasonable.

Ah, but that was an old resentment, long since reduced to little more than knee-jerk reaction. He was happy enough with his lot; his command of this small, unimportant ship. Though her assignments were frequent, and frequently over great distances, she was fast enough that he got to spend much of his time with the _other_ women in his life; his wife and daughter. The thought brought its usual half-smile to his lips as he returned his attention to the spacedock.

_Miriel_ was guided into her berth with her laconic helmsman's usual skill. Clearly he'd decided that he liked these strangers; rationing out an entire sentence for them as they left the Bridge. He'd little more than a grunt for the rating at the Comm, when she'd leaned over to tease the helmsman about it. Forsythe smiled as he followed the Senshi from the bridge. It was interesting, he thougth, the way everyone native to that little backwater mudball seemed to have such an amazing way with people, and they didn't even seem to realize it. Gil Graham, Nanoha Takamachi, Hayate Yagami; they all seemed to gather friends, followers and allies amazingly fast by sheer force of personality. A smile quirked: no wonder the world was Unadministered. If they let the Earthlings into the Bureau proper; they'd take over in no time.

---------------

Minako had travelled extensively in the years before she'd come to Japan, so it was not the new and alien skyline confronting her outside the Navy Teleport Annex that had brought her up short. Oh, like her friends, she took it in and noted that there were a few architectural styles present in it, suggesting a city that had long been growing. Nearby was a sprawling building that, even without its signs, fairly screamed 'Mall.' And she saw a more... conventional... port to what she thought was the East, seaships docking as sunlight glittered on the water.

What brought her up short was looking into the sky and seeing no less than five worlds hanging ther, pale crescents in the daylight, but visible nonetheless, mismatched patches of blue, green and brown suggesting life. Merciful kamis, this really, truly was another world. She'd known it was coming on some level, of course, but the reality of it still hit with great force. This was more real, more immediate than the visions Artemis had shown her way back when, more real than her memories of a previous life. This was, absolutely, totally, and undeniably, another planet.

She pinched herself in a childish impulse. No, not dreaming. Oh, my. _This is gonna be incredible,_ she thought, fighting the urge to start laughing. Wouldn't look right.

Glancing around, she saw that her friends had also shifted their attention from the skyline to the sky itself. Makoto, Rei, and Usagi all wore expressions of sheer wonder as the situation became so very real to them. Ami's expression was a mix of wonder and... curiosity? Fascination? Minako guessed that their erstwhile guide was going to get peppered with questions very shortly.

Thinking of... she glanced further down the Annex's steps to their guide, a young noncom who was watching the five teens with an expression of amusement. When he realized Minako was looking at him, he quickly went poker-faced. Minako made sure she still had her bags – she'd managed to drop one when she'd seen the tableau overhead – and walked down the steps. "I suppose you see this with all new arrivals?"

The poker face held for a second, then cracked. "Most of 'em, I guess. Sorry." He shrugged. "I grew up here, so I'm used to it."

"Back on Earth, there's just the one moon. And you can't see it during the day very often."

"That just sounds weird to me." He tilted his head a moment, indicating the overhead. "Knowing they're there all the time... It's comforting. Not sure I'd like not seeing that."

"This is totally wild, isn't it?" Rei asked as she stepped down beside them.

"Yeah." Minako glanced at their guide. "I guess you need to get us somewhere?"

------------------

They took the scenic route from the Annex to the Academy, where they would be training. Their guide had grown up in the capital and it had taken minimal wheedling to convince him to show off 'his' city to the newcomers. He'd fielded several questions from them on various topics from the various Senshi, not able to answer all of them, perhaps, but he'd answered most, and pointed Ami to some place called the 'Infinite Library' for answers to the rest. Minako was grateful to find out that the cardinal directions, at least, were the same as back home.

---------------

Ranma was quite enjoying the first day of summer.

A familiar red umbrella flashed by beneath him as he lept over Ryoga. The fanged boy snarled, threw the umbrella, dodged Ranma's counterattack. For a long moment they were little more than a blur in the eyes of the small crowd of watchers they'd gathered, then each lept back from the other, landing into defensive stances.

Each circled the other for a long moment, Ryoga pausing only to retrieve his umbrella from where it had landed after his earlier throw. They'd agreed to keep this a 'friendly' spar, neither of them using ki blasts or otherwise trying to demolish anything but each-other. Both martial artists tuned out the sounds of the crowd, people cheering on one fighter or the other.

The cheers raised to a roaring crescendo as the two fighters charged each other, Ryoga leading with his umbrella, Ranma dropping into a skid in the loose-packed earth, sliding between the fanged boy's legs. But Ryoga had anticipated that, hopping at just the right moment to avoid Ranma's grabbing hands. So much for tripping him up. The both sprung to their feet and exchanged a flurry of blows. A few panicked yelps carried over the cheers as Ryoga's umbrella, knocked out of his grip by Ranma, pinwheeled through the air and came crashing down with sidewalk-cracking force. Fortunately, the various watchers managed to scramble out of its way.

The fight went vertical for a moment, Ryoga leaping high and Ranma following. Ranma noted – as they exchanged blows in mid-air – that while Ryoga hadn't quite worked out his flying technique, he'd come close. They were both airborn for a solid minute before dropping down, Ryoga first.

They landed perhaps ten feet out of arms reach of each other, each taking up a fighting stance once-more. "You almost got it that time, P-chan."

"Takes a lot outa me." Ryoga charged, staying low to the ground.

"You're doin' it wrong, is all." Ranma dodged his rival's rush, and their exchange became furious once more. The crowd, long used to these kinds of fights, edged out a bit, sensing that giving the two fighters a touch more room would be healthier than staying close. The two slammed and crashed around the vacant lot for a few minutes, neither managing a truly solid hit on the other. Finally, Ranma tried to leap high over the fanged boy's head, only to find that Ryoga had shot upwards in flight and grabbed his ankle.

Ryoga's throw sent Ranma straight down, physics giving the fanged boy a boost higher. Ranma managed to redirect his fall enough to take the brunt of the impact with his shoulder, rather than his face, bounced up, and then dodged Ryoga's descending kick.

The dodge had a little too much ki pushed into it, carrying him back to the fence at the lot's edge. "Kuso," he swore. Out of the ring. Louder, he said, "You got lucky there Ryoga. Good fight."

The two shook hands. Ryoga said, "I had to take one eventually." He grinned. "I've almost got that flying thing figured out, despite you not helpin' me. It's a hell of a thing." The two walked to the other side of the lot, where Ryoga had left his backpack.

"Yeah. An' you ain't doin' it quite the way I do, but it's mostly workin.'"

Ryoga nodded. "Mostly. Burns way more ki than yours, though." Ryoga pulled his watch out of the pack, which, Ranma noticed, no longer held cooking gear and maps of a dozen cities. "I gotta run, Ranma."

"Same time tomorrow?"

"I'd love to embarrass you two days running. Meet ya here."

"You wish, P-chan. You wish." Ranma shook his head as his friend walked away. Absently, he rubbed at his shoulder. He was normally good at landing well, but he hadn't quite managed it that time. Trying to recover himself in mid-plummet via his flight power was definately something worth working on, but the learning changed the way he fell enough to mess up landings while he worked on it. Always something more to learn...

Looking around, he saw the last of the crowd drifting away now that the show was over. A few looked at him with expressions that said he'd just lost them money. Well, it was hardly intentional. And Ryoga wouldn't get him two days running.

Looking further, he saw Nabiki standing at one end of the lot, people streaming past her. He walked over. "Hi, Nabs." Quirk of a smile. "Hope I didn't lose you too much there."

"I wasn't organizing any betting there, Ranma."

"Too small time for ya?" At some unspoken agreement, they began walking in the direction of the Tendo Dojo.

"No. I just... That's not why I came down here."

Ranma was NOT used to hearing any kind of hesitance from Nabiki. Normally she was totally unflappable. "You okay, Nabs?"

"I'm fine." she said, a little too quickly. "I just... I have a favour to ask you."

"What kinda favour?"

She took a breath before continuing. "I want you to teach me the kind of martial arts that lets you use ki."

Ranma stopped short. "You wanna learn the Art?"

"Yes. And eventually, how to fly."

Ranma took a moment to compose himself. "You want me to teach you how to fly."

"Yes."

"Nabs, you quit your last run of training, didn't you?"

"With father? Yes. Now I want to start learning again, so why not approach the best martial artist I know?"

"Uh, well.." Ranma shook himself. "Flattery'll get ya lots, Nabs. What's your game?"

"No game. No tricks, no schemes." She seemed to come to a decision, and her normal cool, unphasable expression vanished, replaced by something remarkably open and... vulnerable. "Do you have any idea how long I've dreamed of being able to fly? How long I abandoned that dream because I knew it was 'impossible?'" A deep breath, a little ragged. "You can do it. You can do the impossible. If it's at all possible, I want to be able to do that too."

Ranma paused, lost in thought. She seemed genuine, but Nabiki Tendo was nothing if not a consummate actress. "Let's say I do train ya. What's in it for me?"

"I can pay for lessons. And it'll get you some practice on training others. You'll need to be able to train your kids some day, no matter which fiance you let collar you in the end."

Ranma winced. That was a cheap shot. "Fair enough. Okay. If I train you, you'd address me as 'Sensei' for the duration of the training."

"All right."

"There'd be lots of work involved, an' I'd be gettin' ya up early to work on it."

"Of course."

And then Ranma came to the clincher. "And you'll stop selling pictures of me." There was no way-

"Agreed."

"See? I knew you- wait, what?"

"If the price of your lessons is not selling those pictures, then I won't sell those pictures."

Ranma stared at Nabiki Tendo, eyes wide. His brain stumbled over the last few sentences. This was... unexpected. "Hang on, you actually _would_?"

"Yes." Her expression showed a little embarrassment. "Look, can we continue this conversation elsewhere? I'm a little embarrassed."

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the Dojo. Ranma had been lost in thought the entire trip. As they entered he said, "You're actually serious about this, aren't you?"

"I am. A little girl's dreams can be... remarkably resilient."

Ranma nodded slowly. "It'll be hard work. There's a lot more to it than just kata and moves."

"I know. I want this."

"I ain't sure I can teach ya' this. There's a lot involved."

"I may not have Akane's potential, but I've still got some. I know I can use at least a little ki."

"The oni head?"

"Yes."

Ranma nodded slowly, brow furrowed in thought. "Not the right kinda ki for.. what you want... but it's something to work with." A pause. "We'd have to spar. Not what Akane an' I do, but for real. I don't know another way to learn the flow of energy, can't think of another way to teach it."

Nabiki nodded, a bit nervous. "I thought as much. I.. I can do that."

"You havn't done much strength training or body hardening, have ya? I'll keep that in mind, but... even taking care, you might, no, you will get hurt."

"I got hurt training with father. I can handle it."

Ranma did a double take. "With Soun? He actually trained ya for real? Full contact?"

"Believe it or not, he did." She smiled, remembering a happier time. "He was a different man before mother died."

"Wow. I... I can't even imagine that. He musta crashed real hard after... Sorry. You probably don't wanna talk about that."

Quietly, Nabiki said, "Thank you."

"Let's head into the Dojo. I need to see what you can do."

------------------------

It was a beautiful, bright day on Mid-Childa. It took the Senshi a while to get ready for the morning – they'd been put up in a set of suites with a single furo for bathing and none of them particularly wanted to share. But after some confusion and a relatively friendly argument between Rei and Usagi, the team got moving. They headed down to the Academy cafeteria. They grabbed breakfast quickly, not really having time to enjoy it. A quick call got them directions to the testing area.

Their guide took them to a spot on the city's sea-wall, looking down into the bay. In front of them was the testing area, a large square area, surface made of some glossy metal or stone, jutting out onto the water. "This is our primary testing facility," explained the young man. "It's a holoprojection system built on an artificial reef."

"Do you have it out there to keep stray shots from hitting the Academy?" Makoto asked as she looked it over.

"More or less. According to this-" the guide pointed to a display floating a few inches above what they'd guessed was the controls "-you mostly deal with urban combat situations. So for today, we'll have it simulate an urban environment." He adjusted some controls and a cityscape wavered into existence over the polished surface. "And the training area will also have a Barrier around it to prevent collateral damage as well."

Makoto was the first to recover her her wits from the sight. "It's out there in the bay, there's this wall here, and you use a magic barrier too? Does it really need that much caution?"

Their guide's answer was an immediate "Yes."

Ami was almost bouncing in place. Their guide, seeming to sense the pending avalanche of questions, cast about for a moment, then pointed along the service road at a car moving towards them. "And that will be your Instructor. She should be able to take things from here." The car was black, with gold trim, and _fast._

Minako chuckled. At Rei's odd look, she explained, "How much you wanna bet Haruka would be drooling over that thing?" Rei smiled.

The car pulled to a tire-torturing halt just before the control spot. Out stepped a tall woman with long auburn hair pulled into a pony tail off to one side. She said something to the driver, too quietly for the Senshi to hear, but from her tone it was likely something endearing. Minako was sure she'd seen the woman before, but couldn't place her.

Then she turned towards them, closing the car door. "Nanoha! It's been a while."

The magess smiled and walked up. The car sped off; none of the Senshi managed a good look at the driver. "It's good to see you again. I hope that little hentia has been out of your hair."

"He hasn't bothered us since then. So... you're our trainer?"

Nanoha nodded as she walked up to the controls, double checking the settings on the training grounds. "Are you ready to begin?"

The Senshi all answered in the affirmative. Ami looked like she had questions, many of them and all technical, but subsided for now. She could, after all, ask later.

Nanoha smiled, lifting a small red pendant and said, "Excellent. For today, I'd like to start with a few mock battles. We have some small idea of your current skills and capabilities from Agents Nakajima and Lannster, but we'd like some more. That would let us know your current strengths and weaknesses as mages, and from there we can concentrate on helping you improve, as well as improving your Devices."

There was a murmur of ascent from the Senshi. This was going to be interesting. Nanoha held the gem close, and in a flash of light her uniform was replaced with a white-and-blue outfit – they recognized it as her combat garb. "Now, if you'll activate your devices, we can head down to the training area and begin."

The Senshi exchanged nods and raised their own transformation devices, and shifted them in chorus. A few seconds later, as the attendant light show faded, they began to follow Nanoha down the steps and towards the testing area. Behind them, the young officer who had guided them to the seawall dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief. That had been quite the display...

As they reached the training area, there was a faint popping sound as a magical barrier sprung to life around the artificial island. Nanoha turned to face them. "The rules of the mock battle are simple. All you have to do to win, is hit me before I can immobilize you all. After this round, we may mix things up a bit with drones and the like. Are you ready?"

A glance shot around the gathered Senshi, each gauging the other's readiness. Five against one sounded easy enough. Usagi said, "We're ready to begin whenever you are."


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I own none of the universes this pops through, nor do I attempt to make a claim on characters created by other people. This I do purely for entertainment._

-Chapter 3-

Ami Mizuno hurt in places she hadn't even known she had.

It had been a long, painful, and moderately humiliating day of training. The entire first half of it consisted of the Inner Senshi losing mock battles. Badly. Not just against Nanoha, but even when simply facing the 'gadget drones' they would lose. Granted, they'd take a drone or two down first, but they still lost. About half way through the day, they managed to pull out a win against the drones, and a few other wins after that one. But any scenario where Nanoha took a direct hand ended in them getting demolished. It had been a long eight hours. Nanoha had cheerfully told them that she had enough data to start a proper training plan, now. At least tomorrow would be classwork. Vastly less chance of pain in a classroom.

They were back in their apartment, resting and taking turns relaxing in the nice hot tub in the furo. Usagi had claimed it first, and only a protracted shouting match between her and Rei had gotten her out, after most of an hour's soak. Minako had called the bathroom next. Ami and Makoto were both waiting, Ami trying to relax on a couch, Makoto poking around the small kitchenette and checking what sort of supplies were in the fridge. Ami would probably let her tall friend go ahead of her; the couch she'd slumped on was inviting and comfortable. A tribute to how exhausted she was: a magic textbook lay on her lap, all but ignored, as she simply tried to rest.

Minako was muttering something dark about the TSAB forcing five teenaged girls to share one bathroom. While it's tub was a bit big for a furo, it was too small to 'feel' like a public bath. Treating it as one felt inappropriate, and while the Senshi were friends, they weren't _that_ kind of friends. Well. The Inner's weren't, anyway. Ami imagined that the Outers wouldn't mind at all.

Hair wrapped in a towel and wearing her gym clothes, Rei walked out of the furo. "I'm not sure what was most infuriating about today. The way we got trashed, or the fact that Nanoha's got some kind of power limiter on, and we _still_ got trashed."

Minako grabbed her bundle and headed past Rei. "My vote would be for the way she kept complimenting us on new ideas or tactics or whatever, right before trashing us anyway. Damned drones."

There was a low muttering at that. As bad as their blasters had been, the drones, well, steel tentacles for close combat were far worse. Ami considered their very _existence_ to be proof positive that someone in the TSAB's R&D department was highly disturbed.

Usagi sighed. "I think our big problem was teamwork."

"Really?" Rei's response was a snarl. "Wow, I'd _never_ have guessed _that_! It's so great we have you to tell us these things, Meatball Head." Her voice was raising as she ranted. "We were _trying_ to do teamwork. You just screamed a lot and fell over!"

"_I _just screamed and fell over? I remember you doing the same a few times!"

There was a sharp _clang_ from the kitchenette, cutting off the two arguers. "Grow up, you two!" Makoto snarled. "Yeah, we weren't all that co-ordinated. Yeah, we lost bad. Yeah, we all fell on our butts and screamed at some point in the day. Arguing about that won't help." She paused and composed herself for a moment. "Look. Today sucked. We're tired and sore. Let's not fight each other. We've got enough to deal with fighting them."

"Well put," said Ami quietly.

Usagi and Rei weren't about to let something like that put an end to their argument, but when under fire were willing to shift targets. As they started up again, Makoto just talked over them. One advantage to her size was that she could hit surprising levels of volume without actually shouting. "Look. We came here to learn. This might not be the start we wanted but it sure as heck shows we were right to come. Let's concentrate on that instead of fighting." A pause, gauging the two surly expressions directed at her. "I am going to cook dinner now. If you two want any, you will stop fighting."

For a long moment, Usagi and Rei looked at each other warily. Then Rei slumped back against the couch and sighed. "You're right. We need to think about this." Her brow furrowed as she concentrated.

Usagi nodded. "Yeah."

For a moment the only sound was Makoto starting to rattle around the kitchenette, preparing to cook... something. Ami wondered idly what she'd found that seemed familiar enough to be cookable. She figured the taller girl would be improvising. It would probably still be amazingly good.

After a long moment, Rei said, "Okay, if I'm off base here tell me, but I think the biggest problem we ran into was mobility. Nanoha and her pet drones were way faster than we were and we kept having to react to what they were doing, instead of setting up a plan."

"That was part of it," began Ami. "Fast movement or flight or something would be a great asset."

"They also had those crazy shields." Usagi pouted a moment. Almost all of her attacks which had been on-target had been blocked by shields over the course of the day.

Ami said, "I think we can take it as a given that any mage the TSAB trains will have some kind of shield. Subaru had one, Nanoha has one, and the drones. It's probably one of the first things they teach."

"Makes sense," said Makoto. "I'm guessing that textbook thingy they gave us has it?"

Ami blushed. "Uh, I haven't actually looked yet." She picked the text from her lap and started through the table of contents.

Rei was incredulous. "You haven't? You've had that text sitting there for an hour and a half and you didn't go through it?"

Ami's reply was a bit more acidic than normal for her. "I'm tired and sore. I didn't think to check." She flipped to the start of the chapter on defences. "Yes, it looks like there's a shield spell here. A couple of them, actually."

Rei had her own copy of the text handy. "What page?"

"The first one starts on page seventeen. There's two others in the same chapter."

For several minutes they studied the text, wich much cross-referencing to try and figure out what most of the technical terms meant. Fortunately, the magical books had robust indexes. Unfortunately, they seemed to assume a level of mystic knowledge greater than the girls possessed. Even in their Senshi forms, their understanding of magic was more instinctual than anything they could put into words or otherwise understand. Frustrated, Rei and Usagi looked like they were going to start it up again, but a pointed throat-clearing from Makoto stopped them.

Minako finished up in the furo shortly thereafter. "I caught most of that. So they think we know more than we do?"

Ami looked up; she'd been going through the introduction of the text in the hopes that it would have a 'magic for total beginners' segment. "It looks like that. I'm still looking for things though. There might be something I missed." She glanced at the kitchenette. Mako was still busy cooking; meeting Ami's glance, she nodded slightly. The blue-haired senshi marked her place and headed for a much anticipated bath.

"We should be able to puzzle something out," said Rei, who'd been skimming the text. "At least it's well laid out, and it's got a better index than most of the texts my school uses."

"Or ours," said Usagi.

Minako nodded. "Nothing to do but try." She walked over to the kitchenette. "Smells good, Mako-chan. And I gotta say, I didn't expect you to lay down the law there."

The tall girl shrugged, nodded vaguely towards Usagi and Rei. "Their antics can be amusing, but not when I'm this tired."

The girls in question blew raspberries at Makoto, then giggled at their impromptu alliance.

---------------------------

Ranma lay on the roof of the Tendo dojo, thinking about the day's attempts at training. He had a fairly good idea of what Nabs was capable of already, and working from that starting point, he had taught her a few useful tricks. But he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. He'd been _in_ training for most of its life, but he hadn't really _trained _anyone. He had his father's example – most of which he filed under 'what not to do' – but not a really solid idea what to do with Nabs.

Damnably, he couldn't really remember his early training, the time when he was actually about the same level of skill as Nabiki now. Knowing how his dad had gotten him started would be highly useful at this stage. Even now, he remembered few details from before the Neko-ken. Though that wasn't entirely fair; Nabs was hadly a beginner. She would be decent by the standards of most areas, really – he'd seen enough to know that Tokyo in general and Nerima in particular had a rather... skewed... concept of average when it came to martial arts.

Still, he had a solid idea of what she could already do, and he'd taught her a couple other moves. Nothing too fancy, but still useful stuff. Stuff he thought of as the basics, perhaps, but it was still progress. But it wasn't much progress, and that was frustrating.

He'd agreed to teach Nabiki how to fly. True, he'd not intended to – thus naming a condition; voluntary removal of a steady income source; that he'd never expected her to agree to – but he'd agreed all the same. He would find a way to pull it off. He liked challenges, after all.

------------------------------

The Time Gates were not absolutely foolproof, but they tended to catch anything major before it happened. Thus, Setsuna was entirely confident that no Youma would be showing up in Tokyo over the summer. Indeed, none for the next six months or so. Asking for help from the TSAB had been a tactic intended to let them learn a little more about their offworld allies and get the Inners some desperately needed training with minimal effort.

Weather by laziness of their own, or a desire to frustrate, the TSAB had frustrated that first intention. Irritating, but there was little if anything she could do about it. And on the balance; they'd saved this world from a threat she could do nothing about. That forgave a lot. Still, being given a thug of a martial artist for assistance rather than a mage rankled. She wasn't sure if that was intended as some kind of slight, or if they couldn't spare a mage, or if it was simply a case of, well, he's already on-planet, why not?

In the end it didn't really matter. The Outer Senshi were taking some time to enjoy the summer. Hotaru and Chibi-Usa were at Usa's, playing or somesuch. Setsuna was in the back yard of her home, relaxing on a deck chair – ironically, for someone whose duties consisted of being the Mistress of Time, Setsuna seldom _had _the free time to indulge in such things. There was always something else that needed attention. Haruka and Michiru were inside, also... relaxing.

All in all, it was set to be a restful, lazy day in early summer.

So when their Youma Detector went off, it created minor pandemonium.

Out in the yard, Setsuna was too far from the detector to hear it herself, even if she wasn't in a slight doze. Fortunately for Tokyo, Haruka and Michiru were at a stage of their... relaxation... where they had attention to spare for other, mundane things. It still took the alarm a good forty-five seconds to get their attention. They raced to it, saw where it was indicating a youma – halfway across town, of course.

Haruka's angry shout – she did not appreciate having her afterglow diminished this way – woke the Senshi of Time from her doze. "SETSUNAAAA! You said nothing was going to happen today!"

"Huh?" The green haired woman woke with a start, the book she'd been reading before falling asleap dropping from her chest to the grass. "What's going on?"

"We've got a youma attacking, that's what's going on. What's the point of being able to tell the future if we can't schedule a day off?"

Setsuna shook off the last lingering traces of sleep and raced into the house, the short-haired teen on her heels. Michiru was waiting for them in the living room, next to the Youma Detector, tossed the two their talismans. Haruka caught hers easily; Setsuna, still off balance, fumbled the catch but quickly scooped it up from the floor. She gave the Youma detector a long, hard look. It was, indeed, showing a reasonably potent youma halfway across town. From the small map, she recognized the part of town.

The other two Senshi were giving her a hard look. "I think I'll be double-checking the Time Gates as soon as we deal with this."

"_Thank_ you."

"For now, let's get down there and kill it."

The trio transformed, and vanished as they teleported to the district indicated by the Youma Detector. On arrival, they started roof-hopping in the direction of the screaming. Subtle was not a term often used to describe Youma,

The creature was, as most youma were, a strange mockery of the female form. Flesh a mottled mix of eggplant-purple and peach, it stood almost twelve feet tall and had already grabbed up a human in one of its misshapen hands. It didn't seem like it had started feeding, however. All to the good.

Haruka advanced towards it, Space Sword held before her. They'd have to close with the thing, their attack spells were potent enough to be dangerous to a held civilian. The Youma turned towards her, an expression almost like a smirk on its mottled face. "Drop him, monster," Haruka growled.

It's lips twisted into a sneer and it tossed its captive salaryman from hand to hand for a moment, as if daring them to blast through him. Haruka would have to be a tad careful, but she was fairly sure she could get the man free without too much-

"_Nagareboshi Kyaku!_" A red-and-black blur dropped from the sky and slammed a heavy kick into one of the Youma's shoulders from behind. The impact twisted the monster half-way around and it dropped its captive. Ranma Saotome stood behind it, smirking. The Outer Senshi stopped short. How in the hells had the martial artist managed that? No ordinary human should have been capable of harming a youma. This Ranma wasn't a mage.... so what had he just done?

The monster, almost as confused as the Senshi, lunged at Ranma, who dodged its attacks effortlessly. A steady stream of insulting banter flowed from him as he dodged around the creature, every so often a fist or foot snaking in to land a blow far more powerful than should have been possible. With a start, Setsuna realized that he was leading the monster away from the fallen human, who, for his part, was crawling away from the fight.

Apparantly judging that he had the Youma at enough distance from any civilians to make it safe, Ranma suddenly lept backwards a good thirty feet, began charging some kind of attack. The Outers had recovered from their surprise enough to do the same. The Youma, off balance from Ranma not being where it had just tried to swipe, was caught cleanly by all four.

"_Deep Submerge!"_

_"Dead Scream!"_

_"Moko Takabisha!"_

_"World Shaking!"_

That last had almost certainly been overkill, the Youma already dissolving into dust that settled into the shallow crater Haruka had left in the blacktop. Ranma walked towards them, still smirking. "That worked." He glanced past the Senshi to the youma's would-be victim. "You okay?"

The salaryman, leaning somewhat unsteadily against a lamppost, managed a smile and wave. "I am, thank you all." He bowed slightly, then turned to go.

Ranma walked up to the still slightly unnerved Senshi. "Hey. It was just the one of 'em, right?"

Setsuna found her voice first. "Yes. How did you do that?"

Ranma smirked. "Like I told ya back in the park. I've fought demons before." He glanced around a moment. "Uh, if that was it, I kinda need to get going. I gotta be somewhere."

"Go ahead," said Haruka weakly. She was trying to parse what she'd just seen Ranma do against what she considered 'martial arts' to be.

Ranma nodded to the others, then rocketed skyward, heading in the direction of Nerima.

The three Outer Senshi were silent for a long moment, then, "Pluto?" began Haruka, "I think we need to take a closer look at this guy with the time gates."

"I agree."

------------------------

Ranma smiled as he set down in Nerima, a block or so away from the ol' vacant lot. He still had a few minutes until he and Ryoga threw down. That had been interesting. The monster itself hadn't been too impressive, but the Outer Senshi had presented a puzzle. He knew, _knew_, that he'd seen them in their 'normal' outfits and identities back in the park. He was decent with names and faces, and had a good eye for the way someone moved.

He didn't have a damned clue which three normal gals from that park matched up with the three Senshi he'd just trashed a monster with.

It was almost certainly a spell of some kind – they didn't even wear masks, for kami's sake, but tried to keep secret identities. Kept 'em damned well, since they'd been doing the Senshi thing for a year or so and nobody seemed to know who they were. So either the entire nation of Japan was as stupid as the siblings Kuno, or they had some hefty mojo keeping the secret. He sure as hell hoped so. He didn't want to think he'd gone as stupid as Tatewaki.

He shook that (rather disturbing) thought out of his head and got himself focused. Figure out that puzzle later. He had a match to think about. Ryoga had gotten him yesterday. It wouldn't happen again.

-----------------------

The day's classwork had gone much better than the mock battles. They'd started with learning how to use magic without transforming. It had been... interesting. Usagi wasn't sure she understood everything that they'd gone over, but it was kinda cool to cast a spell as Usagi Tuskino rather than as Princess Serenity. And she could definitely see where knowing how would help with other magicy stuff.

Rei, of course, had pulled off the trick first, the cheating Shrine Maiden with her weird powers already. Annoying. Still, she'd helped the others pull it off – though Ami hadn't needed the help, managing what she'd called a 'hello world' spell shortly after Rei, displaying a short phrase in the air. She hadn't followed much of the blue-haired girl's energetic explanation, but she could see that there was a big and complex system to the magical terms and stuff they'd been shown. She didn't quite understand it, and Ami's programming analogies went over all the Senshi's heads, but the way Nanoha had been nodding and interjecting every few minutes while Ami gushed told Usagi that her friend was probably more or less right. And that was kinda cool. With a little luck, Ami could help the rest of them make sense of it.

Right now, Ami was reading the textbook with rapt interest. Minako was tweaking the 'hello world' spell, playing with displaying different phrases, languages, and colours. She was up to seven languages now, and kamis knew how many phrases. Rei alternated between the text and watching the show.

As Usagi glanced up from the basic shield spell, she saw Minako try out another variant of the spell, producing a short phrase in a blocky, angular script. "What's that one?"

"A bit of German." The blonde smiled. "I'm getting the hang of this."

"We noticed," said Rei, "And you're just showing off at this point. We know you can speak, like, a dozen languages. You don't need to rub it in."

"I wouldn't say I can speak a dozen languages. I can speak a little bit in a few others, but I'm only really fluent in English and Japanese. I could get by in a few others, but not well." She shrugged. "And that's not what I was talking about, anyway."

"Then what were you talking about?" Usagi was more than a little curious.

"Well, they've got a system for magic here. Lots of formulas like math and stuff. I'm mostly fiddling with the variables and seeing if I can get it to go properly. This little spell isn't all that complicated, but I'm fairly sure that the same principle will apply to more complicated spells, like shields and attacks and stuff."

"It almost certainly does," said Ami, not glancing up from her text and multiple pages of handwritten notes. "It's a very flexible system. As long as you remember the format, you can do a lot with this." She glanced up. "Now that I know what some of those mystery terms mean, and the other things we learned in class, I think I can work out some really interesting things here."

"I'm just glad we were able to work out how to use this magic so quickly," said Rei. "It's not like we've done magic without transforming before. Not really."

Usagi nodded. "I thought about that a little. I think we were able to do it 'cause, well, we've been using magic for a while as the Senshi. I guess some of the skills carried over or rubbed off or something."

"Makes sense. Well, as much sense as this kinda thing could make." Rei shrugged.

From the kitchenette, Makoto said, "I'm wondering what they're going to do with our transformation talismans. They say they want to 'upgrade' them, but I wonder if they can- their stuff is fairly different from ours."

---------------------

"I'm impressed, Nanoha. These things are great. You're sure they're aincient?"

"Very much so, based on the reports. What's so impressive, if I may ask?"

Shario glanced up from the device she was working on – Nanoha thought it was Makoto's, based on the symbol – and said, "Well, they're a lot more powerful than anything we could make even a couple decades ago, to say nothing of thousands of years. It looks like they channel energy directly through the user, rather than acting as a focus. It's about twelve per-cent more efficient, overall, than the average Mid-Childan device." A shrug. "Though I don't know how safe this kind of direct channel is. It's pushing an awful lot of power."

"It's not safe at all. If you check the reports Archivist Scrya and Admiral Harlaowan put together, their more powerful magics have backlash issues." A small smile. "Even our devices' aren't entirely proof against that, though."

"To be fair, the things you and Raising Heart have managed to do to yourselves over the years are hardly typical." The two friends and collegues shared a laugh. "I should be able to incorporate something into these. I think the best idea would be a separate module to channel power, so it isn't going directly through their bodies. They'll almost be separate Devices, a bit like the setup we devised for Subaru Nakajima."

"A separate focus would probably be for the best." Nanoha stood. "If that will be all, I think I'll be going. I need to plan out the next few day's lessons."

Shario glanced at a clock, smiled knowingly. "And get everything done early, since Fate's going offworld on another assignment in two days?"

"A night with the family. We're going to watch a movie. Guttermind." Nanoha did a credible impression of flouncing out, nose in the air.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I own none of the 'verses this wanders through and make no claim to any characters created by other authors._

_Author's note: First, I apologize for the brevity of the last few chapters. My muse has been inconsistent of late. Also, I will be putting this story on temporary hiatus for the month of November to work on another project for NaNoWriMo. If you want to follow my progress on that, I'll be using the same username for NaNo that I use here._

-Chapter 4-

"Wake up, boy! You have much to learn if you presume to be a teacher!"

Nabiki groaned for a moment at Genma's outburst down the hall. A glance at her clock told her what she suspected; this was about a quarter hour earlier than usual. Ah well. She stood, stretched, and pulled on her gym gear. Once Ranma was done throwing his father around the back yard, he'd be coming in to start her training for the morning. After a few hours of that, they'd break for most of the day, and then a few hours of sparring or other practice in the evening. They'd been training for four days now, and Nabiki was happy with her progress so far. She was still firmly grounded in the land of reality, but she'd improved a fair bit.

Kasumi passed her a cup of steaming hot tea as she walked to the dojo. The two sisters traded smiles. At least Kasumi was behind her in this, Akane had been studiously ignoring her since she'd begun training. She wasn't sure if the youngest sister was mad at her or at Ranma.

Bah. Something to worry about later. Fortified with blessed caffeine, Nabiki began stretching, working out the soreness in her muscles. She wasn't exactly out of shape, but this was far more work than she'd done in quite a while. Kamis, if Ranma hadn't had other things drawing on his time for the all-too-short month of summer break, and was able or willing to train her all day, she would probably not survive.

There were a few little aches and twinges as she warmed up but, she noted with some surprise, she was less sore this morning than the one previous. Probably her body starting to get used to the exertion. She hoped so.

After a few minutes, she heard a loud splash, followed by an unhappy sounding _growf_ noise as Genma pulled himself out of the koi pond. A few moments later, Ranma entered the dojo, nursing his own cup of Kasumi's tea.

"Took you longer than usual to beat him, Sensei. Losing your touch?"

"He pulled something new out of his trick bag. I guess Pops still has a few secrets." He shrugged. "I'll have to convince him to show me a few more. They might be good."

Ranma gave her a few more minutes to stretch and warm up as he sipped his tea. After he finished, they started into the morning's training, Ranma leading her through a series of kata. He was watching her closely, with an odd sort of focus, and every so often he'd suggest something, some small change to stance or balance or movement, that seemed meaningless to her. But, still trying to be the dutiful student, she'd try it – and they worked. However Ranma was seeing it, his tips were helping her improve. After a few hours of training, as they left the Dojo for breakfast, she asked him about it.

Ranma smiled lopsidedly. "You know how I'm real good at pickup up someone's moves quickly?" He waited for her to nod, then continued. "I do it by observing what they do really closely. Stance, movement, shifting of weight, balance... I look for all that. It occurred to me last night that I could maybe reverse the process. So I got you to do stuff that I know, so I know what it's _supposed_ ta look like, an' then just pick out the differences." He shrugged.

"It's very impressive. I wouldn't have thought of that."

"'S why you came to me, innit? I'm a genius at this stuff." They shared a polite chuckle. "You're doin' well. 'S far as the basics go, balance is the biggest thing. I want you to take a couple hours this afternoon and work on it some."

"Fair enough. How do you want me to do that?"

--------------------

Brow furrowed in concentration. Nabiki Tendo walked cautiously along a fencetop.

Ranma had gotten her to start fencewalking as a bit of balance training, stating that a better sense of balance would be invaluable for some of the more advanced stuff she'd be learning. She believed him. She'd seen enough of the madness he, Ryoga, Mousse, and various other ridiculously overpowered martial artists considered normal moves.

So she found herself carefully, slowly, marching around the perimeter of the Tendo's back yard, partially because she was sure she looked vaguely silly, walking along with both arms out for balance, and partially because it was a wide enough fence that she didn't think she'd be taking a painful fall on it. Ranma had first suggested the fences along the route from the Dojo to Furikan High, citing a decently straight route with few large gaps. She figured the back fence was good enough for now. Once she was confident that she wasn't going to fall and break her neck or otherwise embarrass herself, she'd be a little more willing to try a thinner one.

She was pleasantly surprised that Ranma wasn't being quite so harsh a taskmaster as she'd feared. Oh, training started early, and ran for several hours, but it wasn't the kind of all-day madness she'd feared. He still had his own training to do, and she knew nothing could dissuade him from that learning. It was probably for the best.

Coming to a corner she took a moment to carefully negotiate it, then kept walking, now going back towards the house. Standing at the back door was Akane, looking at her with an amused expression. "Something I can help you with, sis?"

"Just watching. Seeing what the baka has you doing for training."

Nabiki shrugged, started walking again. "Seeing anything interesting?"

"Not really. Why are you doing this?"

"Because he's training me and this is what he wants me working on right now. Besides, I can see where he's going with this." She continued walking along the fencetop.

Akane followed on the ground. "Where he's going with it? Oh please. You do realize he doesn't have any idea what he's doing, right?"

"Akane... when has Ranma _ever_ known what he's doing going into something?" She let the statement sink in for a moment. "He's a master of making it up as he goes along. And he's way too stubborn to give up." She paused a moment, negotiating a corner. "He probably wouldn't even let me give up on it."

"So you're just going to muddle along with whatever he thinks will work for a while?"

"More or less. I'm already improving, and if nothing else it'll help me get into better shape." She shrugged. "Chasing a dream is kinda fun, really."

"I'm sure." Akane's tone was acidic. "You'll give up in a week when you realize how much damage it's doing to your pocketbook."

"Please, little sister, give me some credit. Those pictures were a decent source of income but hardly my only one." She smirked at Akane's annoyed expression. "Even with this bit of 'homework' I'll have enough free hours to keep the rest moving. It's slowing the money down but it's hardly stopped it." She looked back up from her sister to her path. "I set up a good system."

"Well... when you come to your senses, don't say I didn't tell you so." Akane stormed off, muttering vile things about 'the Ranma-Baka.'

Nabiki smiled as she continued fencewalking. Her little sister could be so amusing when she got all tsun-tsun.

--------------------------

Ryoga had figured he'd put one over on Ranma today, and so far it looked like he was right. The two of them were pounding around the ol' lot together, the fanged boy keeping Ranma on the back foot. The crowd was giving them a touch more room than normal. Wise of 'em. Not that he and Ranma would have a problem keeping things under control, but, well, accidents happen. They'd been at it for a while now, and Ryoga was slowly gaining the advantage.

Ranma'd been a bit distracted by something at the start of the fight. Ryoga hadn't seen any reason to mention that, or that he needed to get his head out or anything like that. It hadn't given him a huge advantage – Ranma had always been a bit more skilled than he was, but the aquatransexual had always surrendered a bit in raw power to the Lost Boy. But whatever Ranma'd been through in their little jaunt beyond had been better training than what Ryoga had run into, and they were almost dead even in power now, which put Ryoga behind him overall.

So he was rather enjoying putting Ranma on the back foot for this session. He didn't manage to pull that off very often. For all this was supposed to be a 'friendly' fight, he hoped that if he could get to a point where he was badly beating Ranma, Ranma would start breaking out some of his new stuff – Ryoga rather wanted to learn how to throw fire himself, and try and refine his flight technique. But Ranma wasn't co-operating, sticking to the rules of their little spar. Ryoga'd just have to push him harder, though he didn't much want to cheat either... he was currently winning the fight honestly, and that happened so seldom that it was worth finishing just so their audience would see it.

Like Ranma, he could be a sucker for the opinion of the crowd.

The fight continued; Ranma was fully in the game now, but Ryoga had the edge and was pushing it for all it was worth, keeping the momentum of the fight on his side. Suddenly, there was a smell of rotten eggs, and the sound of tearing cloth. Both fighters glanced up, and saw a strange, technicolour rip in the sky about a dozen feet above the ground. A large, misshapen hand reached through it, then another. The two friends and rivals exchanged nods. Whatever this was, it would have to be dealt with. And it would pay for interrupting their match.

The tear disgorged a lumpen, mostly humanoid form that dropped to the ground as the tear itself sealed. The creature roared at the crowd, began to move towards them, and suddenly found itself flat on the ground as Ranma kicked its legs out from under it. "Not so fast, Youma. You gotta deal with us first."

The two fighters circled the youma, which tried to keep them both in sight. It lashed out at Ranma, who dodged its claw with ease as Ryoga took advantage of its distraction to land a heavy blow to its back. It kicked out, catching the fanged boy in the middle and sending him toppling. Ryoga landed hard, rolled to his feet, and shook his head to clear it. That had actually hurt. This sucker hit as hard as the demons of Midland. He grinned ferally. Unlike those demons, it was alone.

"Hey ugly!" he shouted. The creature turned. "We were in the middle of something when you interrupted. That makes me sad. _Shi Shi Hokodan!"_

A familiar looking green fireball dropped from the sky. The crowd ducked and covered.

The fireball landed, clipping the monster and crashing around Ryoga. He blinked, the blast had been downright anaemic compared to the normal, barely covering the half-dozen yards between himself and the monster. What the hell?

"I wondered if that might happen," said Ranma as he laid into the creature, fists blurring.

"Wondered what?" Ryoga was still trying to parse what had just happened.

"If you're too happy to get depressed enough to power that properly."

Ryoga stopped, dumbstruck. Had he... he had, he realized, been genuinely happy with his life lately. Oh, he was still stuck with the pig, but for the most part he was doing fine. He could actually call his house a home, his dog was surviving on more than just the kindness of strangers, and he was honest to god holding a job. Was all this really sabotaging his ability to fight? That was... that was just so... unfair.

The shi shi hokodan that followed was rather truer to form, driving the monster into the turf hard enough to leave a youma-shaped dent. Ryoga surged with elation at that, then realized that the joy at being depressed had killed the depression. The creature, tougher than it looked, recovered quickly, and lunged. Ryoga barely managed to dodge the attack, and danced back, getting enough room to try and figure out a plan of attack.

Ranma closed with the monster, hammering away at its flanks for a moment. Unfortunately he underestimated the creature's speed. A claw hooked around his leg, sent the martial artist flying into the street. Ranma crashed through a fire hydrant, sending water geysering upward and rolling to a stop. Ryoga looked away; Ramna hadn't worn his usual red shirt today, but a white one. A not-terribly-thick white one. That had gotten soaked, along with the aquatransexual herself, by the crash through the fire hydrant. Ryoga turned his attention to the monster.

Most of the other boys watching didn't, dropping with blood streaming from their noses.

Ryoga grabbed his umbrella from where he'd left it, bounded at the monster again. If it was fast enough to tag Ranma, he'd need the reach. He tagged it a few times, circling the creature and keeping an eye on its various limbs. He just barely managed to parry one of its strikes with his umbrella, the impact tossing him through the fence. The youma reared up onto its hind legs, prepared to charge at him.

"_Moko Takabisha!"_

Ranma's ki blast took the creature in the midsection, threw it back. The creature seemed to fold in half for a moment, then dissolved into dust. After a few moments, Ranma said, "Ryoga? You still with us?"

The fanged boy began to pick himself up, replied, "Yeah, I'm here." _Don't look. Don't look. He's still swapped. _"That sucker was fast."

"Yeah." Ranma walked to the hole in the fence. Ryoga gulped, then fixed his gaze at a point about three inches above the redhead's head. "You okay, P-chan?"

"Fine, fine."

"Did it get a shot in on the crowd while I was down?"

"No. You knocked everyone out yourself." _Don't look. Don't look. Looking equals horrible bloodloss._

"I what?" There were a few seconds of awkward silence as Ranma glanced downward, seeing the current state of her shirt. "Oh. One second." Then she quickly ran through a sequence of moves. Ryoga felt heat rise from around her; realized she was doing some version of that firebending trick. _Surely if it's just to learn a new move I can look..._

Before he could do so, Ranma had finished her impromptu shirt-drying. "That should be better. Wish there'd been enough water left to swap me back, though."

"There's still a geyser in the street. Go ahead and heat it up."

"You just wanna know how the trick works."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Hell, if my Shi Shi Hokodan isn't gonna work right anymore, I need _something._"

"You'll figure somethin' out. Ya always do." The two rivals walked across the vacant lot, heading for Ryoga's gear.

"Why are you wearing that shirt anyway?"

"Laundry day. An' it ain't like I figured on gettin' soaked." They paused for a moment as Ryoga recovered his pack. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure. Don't invite a demon next time."

"I'll try. See ya." The redhead walked away, waving goodbye absently.

-----------------------------

The Outer Senshi crouched on a nearby rooftop. They'd gotten the alarm, and had hurried over. Finding the Youma engaged by both Ramna and one of his allies, they had decided to observe before leaping into battle. They hadn't been disappointed.

"He is way too damned powerful for someone without magic," said Haruka. She glanced at Setsuna. "We are sure he doesn't have any magic, right?"

"Other than that transformation curse, none that I could detect." The green haired Senshi shook her head. "I think we won't go very wrong to take what we've heard about everyone down here at face value. These martial artists are impressive."

Michiru nodded. "Given that youma are showing up that we don't seem to be able to predict, having them around wouldn't be bad." She glanced at Setsuna. "Do you know what's going on there?"

The Senshi of Time frowned. "No, I don't. Once they pop up I can review them, but I'm not getting any indication of who's sending them or why, or when. I'm working on it." That last was in a tone that did not invite comment.

Then they returned to their homes, and the rooftop was left in silence.

----------------------------

Usagi was bored. It was Friday, and they were supposed to have had just half a day of class, and then some time off. Tomorrow, they would have some 'practical' classes and get their talismans back after upgrading. Usagi was not so fortunate as the others. Upon learning that she had some healing abilities, Nanoha had decided to get her doing some work with the local medical types. And so right after class she'd been sent down to the Academy's doctor's office and put to work, somewhere between candy-striping and actual nursing.

Ami would probably have loved it, since she actually wanted to become a doctor, but they hadn't asked her. She was probably with the others, in town, shopping. They'd been granted a smallish stipend for 'reasonable expenses,' especially after Makoto pointed out that she could cook. Instead, Usagi was on her own helping with patients. Well, not entirely alone, but other than the patients, the only one here was Dr. Shamal. She was friendly enough, but it didn't change the fact that Usagi wanted to be shopping.

Usagi was sorting out magically imbued bandages when Shamal popped in again. "How is it going?"

"Well, no offence, but I'm kinda bored."

"That's fair enough. I know it can be annoying to stay behind while your friends are off doing something, but Nanoha wanted you working with me for a reason. Healing magic is complex and ever so useful."

"Well, sure. But I can already do healing magic. When I'm transformed, anyway."

Shamal took a seat across from Usagi. "Do you know how it works?"

The blonde Senshi shook her head. "Not really... It just does. It covers a lot of different things, too." She shuddered for a moment at a memory. "It's brought us back before, too."

"'Back?' As in, from the dead?"

Usagi nodded. It was not a pleasant memory.

"Well then. Are you sure you don't want to know how it works?"

"I guess I do wanna know, but... I'd rather be with my friends right now. All this training..." A quirk of a smile. "This was supposed to be our summer holiday."

Shamal smiled back. "Well, for what it's worth, you're doing fine. In some ways, you're doing better than most of Nanoha's classes."

"How? She trashed us that first day."

The healer chuckled. "Miss Tsukino, Nanoha trashes _every_ group she trains at least once. Especially when she's assigned to work with a group that's already established. By starting with a hefty drubbing, she makes it more likely that an experienced team will actually listen to what she has to say."

"It worked. We've definitely been paying attention."

"That's a good thing. Nanoha was a field agent for several years. She knows _exactly_ what our medical magitech can do, and she trains accordingly. Her sending you here to work with me isn't some kind of punishment or make-work. It's actually a mark of respect."

"That's kinda cool. But, if she's so hard on recruits, why is she a trainer?"

"Because she is a very _good_ trainer. Pay attention and you'll go far."

"I think I will." A pause. "So, what did you want to show me next?"

----------------------

The Inner Senshi were fairly bouncing in place with energy. They were driving out to a field test area, and were getting their transformation talismans back today. The talismans had been upgraded by a woman named Shario, who rode with them and was talking animatedly with Ami. This was going to be interesting. They had spent the last four days in training, all in a classroom. Being able to put that into practice was going to be amazing. Though they'd been trying to learn, in their civilian forms they just didn't have that much power to play with, which made trying out several of the things they'd been taught problematic.

They piled out of the van in a small forest glade. There were a few minutes of stretching and enjoying the fresh air as Nanoha, Shario, and another mage who'd come along to assist Nanoha, a short redhead named Vita, gave their talismans one last check-over.

"Okay, everyone," began Nanoha, getting their attention, "Let's get your Devices and get started. We're just going to be doing some practical training today, not a mock battle."

There was a bit of relief at that. Minako gave an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"So... did the activation code change?" Rei was looking over the brooch she'd been handed. Just holding it, she could feel that it was her talisman, yet.. not.

"We didn't change that. They should work just fine. By all means, please engage them."

The Senshi exchanged nods, raised their talismans, and transformed as one.

The change seemed quicker than normal, and it's attendant rush of power seemed slightly muted compared to the normal. Usagi observed two things as the transformation finished: it seemed that her uniform had acquired a jacket, and she was holding a staff. As her vision cleared she saw the staff; almost as tall as she was, silver and white in colour, one end curved around a fist-sized gem. It seemed to _thrum_ with contained power as she held it. "Wow..."

"_Greetings, my master."_

"Did you just talk?"

"_Indeed, master. I am Silver Song._"

Usagi glanced around. The others were holding similar staves, were wearing jackets similar to the one that had added itself to her own outfit. They were mostly white, trimmed the same colour as each Senshi's ribbon. "This is so cool."

Rei nodded. "When can we try these out on something?"

Vita spoke up. "Whenever you're ready we can get started." She and Nanoha had also transformed. Vita's outfit was pretty in a gothy sort of way, with an elaborate hat. And a large hammer. "Anyone who wants to work on barriers can join me over here."

The Senshi exchanged glances. Something in the short woman's tone was worrying. Seeing their hesitation, Vita snickered. "Oh come on, I won't hurt you. No more than Nanoha would, anyway."

"That's not exactly a comfort," muttered Rei. Vita's snicker became a full laugh.

"I like you people. You're funny. Let's get started."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: After this chapter I'll be putting the story on hold for the month of November for NaNoWriMo. I should be resuming this no latter than the second saturday of December.

_Disclaimer: I own none of the 'verses this draws on and make no claim to any characters created by other authors. I'm also too poor to be worth suing over this._

-Chapter Five-

Howling with laughter, Minako rocketed along perhaps a meter above the treetops.

They'd spent a few hours working on defensive spells – Nanoha had judged their lack to be the more serious problem the Senshi faced – and a week of theory had paid off. With Dawn's Heart _thrumming_ in her hands and making the occasional telepathic comment, she'd had the power to apply the lessons they had learned. It had been thrilling. Also terrifying – Vita seemed to thrive on frightening her students, and her hammer more than deserved its title of the Iron Count.

Her shield had been declared 'acceptable' by Vita – though she'd suggested they all practice and improve. She'd been grudgingly impressed with Ami, who'd tried a few variants on the basic shield. While they hadn't been totally effective, that she'd created workable variants on something as complex as a shield spoke well of her. Minako was a little bit jealous of the blue-haired Senshi, but it was hard to dwell on that right now.

Flying was far too much fun.

_"I would advise more altitude, Master."_

Gripping the blue-and-copper coloured staff tightly, the young mage did a barrel roll and went up a meter or so. The Intelligent Device had more personality than she'd expected. Not, she admitted to herself, that that was hard. She'd not expected any kind of AI or talking or anything out of it. She'd only been working with the Device for a day, and she and Dawn's Heart were still getting to know each other. Though its mental voice didn't have an accent, she was fairly sure that if it did, it would be upper class British. She liked it, and it seemed to be genuinely concerned about her safety and wellbeing(and had protested Vita`s instructional attacks once the redhead had really gotten worked up) but she had the impression that it found her far too flighty and reckless.

"That better?"

"_Yes Master."_

"You don't have to call me 'master,' you know. You can just call me Minako."

_"That would hardly be appropriate, Master."_

"Why not? I'm not all that formal."

Minako swore she heard it sniff. _"That does not change the fact that it would be improper."_

She couldn't help herself; she started laughing again. Definitely British. "We'll have to talk about that more. I just... Master is such a masculine title. It just sounds wrong to me."

_"Perhaps we can come to a compromise at some other time. At the moment, however, it behooves me to remind you that we have left the practice area and are rapidly approaching city airspace. If you'll recall your briefing, you should note that there are restrictions against flying within city limits without a permit."_

"I suppose you want me to turn around and head back then?"

_"If it wouldn't be too much trouble."_

She mock-sighed as she went into a wide, lazy turn. "Oh, all right." She supposed it would be fun to see how the others were doing. Their next week of instruction was going to be practical, field stuff. That would be fun. After that would be a day of mock battles. That would probably be less fun, but they could hope. She wasn't expecting them to win everything, but just about anything would be better than the last round.

---------------------------------

Ranma took his time dealing with pop's attack that morning. Mostly, he was hoping his father would pull some gems out of his trick bag; the old panda was clearly holding out on him. Unfortunately for him, Genma wasn't pulling anything he hadn't seen before this time. Ah well, he'd burned enough time that Nabs was probably almost done warming up and ready for training. One body flip later and the panda was pulling his large and furry self out of the koi pond.

He was mostly playing the training by ear, and trying to figure out techniques that would work. Soun had gone ape on him the first time he'd spotted Nabs with a minor limp – not even Ranma's fault, that, she'd rolled her ankle doing a kata, not sparring – and he was hoping to avoid another session of getting bitched out by the man who bought most of his food. He also genuinely didn't want to hurt her too badly. He'd known going in that she hadn't done much in the way of strength training or body hardening, but he'd not realized how.. frail she would be. Hurting girls wasn't fun. He strongly suspected hurting kids would be less so.

This training stuff was more complicated than he'd expected at first, and he'd had no illusions about it being easy. He wasn't gonna let that stop him. Gratefully, he accepted a cup of tea from Kasumi; she was definitely supportive of her middle sister's rekindled ambition. He didn't know what Akane thought about it, and he didn't much care. At least she hadn't hammered him when she heard about Nabs' ankle. Which surprised the hell out of him, but he had a strong sense that asking her why would only result in him getting hammered. So he was leaving well enough alone.

He entered the dojo, exchanged nods with Nabs. It looked like she wasn't quite limbered up, so he took a few minutes to finish his tea. Okay. Time to try something tricky. "Okay, Nabs. You've got the basics down fairly well. I wanna try somethin.'"

"Should I be worried, Sensei?"

"Nah. This is gonna be a little more advanced than whatcha been doin', but not by much. The first trick I learned to do with ki."

That had her attention, though being Nabs, she tried not to show it. "Oh?"

"It doesn't really have a proper name, but it's basically using your ki to enhance the speed or impact of a move, or increase your effective strength or something. It's how I can do some of my huge jumps an' speedy moves, an' how Akane can punt me halfway 'cross town." A pause. "An' the scarey thing 'bout Akane, is that she doesn't seem to consciously do it. She just _does_ it when she gets fired up."

"That sounds... okay. How does it work?"

"First, run through everything you do for the Oni Head move, except for the making your head look big and demonic."

"Why?"

"Because this trick needs some power to work, an' that technique is the only time I've seen you deliberately generate some. Besides, I'm Sensei. I said so."

"Fair enough." She took a breath, closed her eyes, and focused for a moment, gathering a trickle of power. After a long moment she exhaled. "Okay. I think I have it."

"Can you feel the ki you gathered for that?"

"I think I... yes. Sort of a little warm feeling in my chest? Is that right?"

"Good a way to describe it as any. Okay. Keep concentrating on that ki; hold onto it, an' follow me through some kata." He waited for her nod, and then smoothly started in on one of the more basic kata he'd taught her. He started out a touch slower than normal – this wasn't the easiest trick in the world to learn; he'd go easy on her – and after finishing the first kata, started into a second one. After that kata he moved into a relaxed stance and turned to Nabiki. "Still feel it?"

"Yes. It's... weird. It almost felt like it was moving around."

"It's like water, it flows when ya move. Okay, if you can feel that much, we can work from there. Keep concentrating on the energy an' how it moves." He began another kata.

The two of them worked through various kata for most of an hour, then paused again. This time, he got Nabs to start punching in place, and just concentrate on how the ki moved as she did. He was getting a good feeling about this. She seemed to be getting it, making the occasional comment about the feel of the energy moving around. And like Akane and himself, even without directly trying she was building up more ki just as she worked. Just a trickle, perhaps, but Ranma knew from his own experience that amount of power counted for less than using it properly. Time to teach her that.

"Nabs? Keep up the punches, but try to move the ki into your punches as you go along."

A frown. "How do I do that?"

"Just picture it in your head and concentrate. 'S how I learned it."

Her brow furrowed and she started trying. Ranma watched closely, his own senses, well attuned to ki and its flows and eddies, watcher her slowly manage to push more energy behind the punches. His mundane senses told him that the blows were coming faster and stronger. He muttered the occasional word of encouragement, a few suggestions on form or technique. Then, "You're getting it. Try puttin' even more force into it now."

She did so, and successfully. The exertion was showing now; burning through ki starting to catch up to her; but she was getting it. Ranma grinned. He loved guessing right. Slowly, still speaking encouragement, he crossed the room. He'd stashed a few items in a corner, retrieving one now he said, "Okay! One last punch with everything ya got!"

---------

Nabiki, pulse racing, arms burning with fatigue, gritted her teeth at Ranma's command. He had to know she was running out of steam at this point, so why wait until now to 'give it her all?' Still, she concentrated on one last punch, mentally pushing as much of the ethereal, warm ki energy into the blow as she could. Even caught up in the moment, she could tell that this trick was putting a lot more oomph into her punches, so who knew what this would-

Without warning Ranma _moved_ – one moment standing across the dojo, the next a blur towards her. She saw him stop; holding something before himself; but he'd moved so _fast_, and she was already in mid swing, and there was no way she could stop. She felt her fist impact something, heard wood crack and splinter, and stopped. For a moment, she stood there, fist at full extension about six inches from his chest, and trying to catch her breath. She knew he was fast, but this was the first time she'd been this close when he really put on the speed. He was grinning like a maniac.

"What was that all about?" She asked when she finally caught her breath.

He just grinned wider, and turned the two halves of the board he'd put in front of her sideways. For a long moment, she stared without comprehension. Then her eyes went wide as it clicked.

She'd broken boards before, of course. Not in a while, and never terribly thick boards, but the basic task was something she'd done in training. She'd never done it with a two-by-four before. Never anything near that thick. She glanced at her hand, the knuckles stung a bit, but no more than she really associated with training. From her hand to the board, to Ranma, her gaze roamed for most of a minute before she could find her voice. "How did I do that?"

"Ah come on, Nabs, you're smarter than that," he said in that damnably smug tone of his, "I told ya this before. Puttin' ki into an attack improves it a ton."

"And you were that sure it would work that you used a board that could break my hand?"

The smile widened. "Yep. You've said it yourself, I'm a great teacher." He paused. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. That'll be enough practice for today."

----------------------------------

_"Dead Scream!"_

The energy blast hit the many-armed youma in one of its left shoulders, staggering the creature for a moment and causing the blast it had been charging to fly wild into the evening sky. Setsuna smirked as the creature clutched at its injured shoulder, though the smirk vanished as it charged up even more blasts with its other six hands. She caught them with a Garnet Ball spell, but they packed enough power to drop her to her knees even through the shield. The monster's limbs splayed out as it began casting something even more potent.

"_Space Sword Blaster!" _Haruka's attack took the monster from behind, and it dissolved into dust with a mournful wail. The blonde Senshi nodded to Setsuna, then turned to help Michiru with another youma.

Setsuna picked herself up from the pavement and followed. This pack of youma was tougher than most of the ones they'd faced yet, and she suspected that more were coming. That the Time Gates were steadfastly refusing to say anything about these attacks was infuriating.

Between them, the three outer Senshi demolished two more Youma quickly.

Haruka glanced around and sheathed her sword. "Looks like we're done here."

"Wasn't there a forth one?" asked Michiru.

As if on cue, another youma flew off a nearby rooftop and crashed into the pavement, smashing a pair of vending machines as it rolled to a halt. The Senshi quickly readied themselves to fight it when Ranma flew overhead, slewed through a sharp turn as he overshot the fallen monster and landed. "Don't tell me that's all ya got. I thought you things was tough."

The youma moaned and started extracting itself from the demolished vending machines. After a few moments it managed to free itself, then launched at Ranma in mindless hunger. The black-haired martial artist caught its lunge and fed it to the pavement without leaving his relaxed, nonchalant stance. The youma rolled to its feet and paused, glancing around. Before it was Ranma. To one side, the Senshi. To the other, a handful of civilians cowering before a restaurant. It tried to lunge towards them, presumably seeking to drain a few normals of their life energy for a quick recharge.

It made it perhaps two feet before Ranma blasted it into dust. _"Moko Takabisha!"_

Ranma stared at the dust pile for a moment. "Don't think I'm ever gonna get used to that..." he muttered, then turned and walked towards the Senshi. "Sorry I'm late. Was that the last of 'em?"

"It was. Excellent timing."

The gathered civilians began to move out of their places of refuge and cheer. Haruka waved at them. "Ah, the adoring public."

--------------------------

The public's gratitude extended to a box of takeout, which the Outers had graciously accepted. They were more than a little amused by the situation – the public's adoration was normally reserved for the Inner Senshi. They'd taken the food back to Setsuna's place, and they'd invited Ranma to join them. He was proving to be a useful ally, and the three reached an unspoken agreement to learn a little more about him.

Haruka and Ranma had each staked out couches in the living room as Setsuna and Michiru retreated to the kitchen to "turn the takeout into something more civilized."

Ranma stretched out on the couch and said, "I gotta quick question for ya. Back when the other Senshi went off with Forsythe, you said you didn't expect anythin' crazy. Is this many monsters normal for you people?"

Setsuna replied from the kitchen. "It's not. Normally we can predict when a series of attacks is coming. I'm still trying to figure out why these ones slipped through."

"I guess it's lucky you're around. Without the detector thingy I wouldn't have a way to find 'em quick. These suckers would make a mess if we wasn't stompin' em hard when they showed up." He paused a moment, considering something. "So did the promise of trainin' only apply to the Inners, or are you just waitin' for a turn?"

Haruka replied, "We didn't want to leave Tokyo uncovered. After the last few days, I'm sure you can see why. And to be honest, I don't think they have anything to teach us."

Ranma did a double take. "Wait, you ain't gonna go for the training?"

"I'm sure they mean well, but frankly, Michiru and I already have some decent training in magic, Chibi-Usa learned in the restored Moon Kingdom, Setsuna in the old, and Hotaru not only has decent skills, she's insanely powerful." Haruka shrugged. "It'll do the Inners good. They've never really trained much."

"You've never seen any of their powerhouses go to town on something, have you?" Ranma smirked.

Setsuna emerged from the kitchen, bearing serving plates loaded with takeout. Michiru was a step behind, bringing drinks. The dark-green haired Senshi said, "We've seen some of what they can do, and I'll grant that it's impressive. But nothing they have is superior to what the Moon Kingdom could manage at its height of power."

"So you don't think you can learn anythin' from 'em?"

"Not really."

Ranma opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted as a glass of water splashed over him. She shot Michiru an annoyed glare. The teal-haired Senshi smiled as she sat beside her lover. Ranma shook her head and said, "So you're good. Fair enough. But there's always somethin' ta learn. You wouldn't believe how many weird martial arts I've picked up over the years. Martial Arts Tea Ceremony, Martial Arts Calligraphy, Martial Arts Eating... Weird styles, but I figured they were worth learnin'." A pause, then, "Some I only learned 'cause somebody challenged me, an' I got my honour to think about, but even the wackiest of 'em has a use."

"Really." Haruka sounded amused. "Well, as long as you think it was worth the effort to learn..." She snickered as she filled her plate. "I'm not sure what's crazier; that you're claiming there's a style of Martial Arts Eating, or that you figured it was worth mastering."

Her smirk turned into a double take as her chopsticks clinked against a suddenly-empty plate. Ranma wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "It has its uses." The other Senshi glanced between them, trying to figure out how Ranma'd managed the trick. "It ain't much for battle itself, but it requires enough speed an' reaction time that the trainin' is useful for other stuff." The redhead shrugged. "Even if ya don't think the TSAB's got any mages better than you, their stuff's different. An' that's always useful to learn."

-----------------------------

An hour or so later, Ranma was back at the Tendo dojo. Specifically, he was in the furo, standing before a mirror and tugging experimentally at his lips and cheeks. After a few minutes, he was satisfied that he'd done himself no permanent harm by using Martial Arts Eating to get his point across. He wasn't sure how much you had to abuse it to suffer that horrendous deformation, but he didn't much want to risk it.

But given how utterly, well, blind to potential his new allies were, he figured it had been worth a bit of risk to get them thinking, something he was fairly sure he'd managed by the end of the meeting, or visit, or whatever. They were kinda interesting, even if he got a real weird vibe from Haruka and Michiru.

He just didn't understand how anyone with the amount of power and potential they had could be so complacent. There was _always _someone who knew a trick you didn't. He loved chances to learn new techniques and styles, sometimes to simply improve himself, but most often, he admitted, because of his pride in being the best. He figured he'd gotten the Senshi thinkin', which was good. If he was gonna have ta rely on them as allies, and with this influx of monsters he was at least nominally responsible for dealing with he probably would, he needed 'em to be thinking.

It had been an interesting conversation, too. He'd learned a bit about them, which was only fair given that they seemed to know a lot about him.

"Worried about your teeth, Sensei?"

Ranma glanced over and saw Nabiki, who was smirking at him. "Something like that."

"Where've you been? You missed dinner."

Ranma shrugged. "A buncha youma showed up. Dropped 'em with the Senshi. One of the people we saved bought 'em takeout, an' they invited me along to eat it. Wasn't gonna turn down free food."

"So you spent an evening with five lovely ladies? I'd better not tell Akane."

Ranma shot her a look. The smirk deflected it easily. "Funny, Nabs. Very funny. I think they're deciding I'm not totally useless as help despite not being a high-class mage. They just wanted to chat about Youma an' such. And besides, there was just the three of 'em tonight. Saturn an' Small Lady were at the Lady's place."

"Ah yes, no underage witnesses whose innocent presence might have acted as a brake on the other's actions. That makes it all better."

Ranma's tone was annoyed. "Is there a particular reason you're tryin' ta get me into trouble, Nabs? You _know_ I ain't like that."

"Because the reactions are always entertaining."

"Entertainin' for you, maybe. You ain't the one gettin' hammered."

"Details, details."

"Ya know, there's still enough time 'fore bed for some sparring, student." Ranma's tone had gained something of an edge.

Nabiki paled slightly.

---------------------

After a slightly longer-than-normal round of morning training and a delicious breakfast – Nabiki knew she should probably be concerned about how much more she was eating than normal, but she just couldn't bring herself to get worked up given how hungry she was after training – the middle Tendo daughter was dozing lightly in the back yard. Technically, she had some 'homework' to do before the evening, but she was tired and sore. Ranma had been more than slightly irritated with her the night before, and as a result she'd taken more hits than usual. Even pulled, his punches stung. Her vanity was costing her a chance to work on her tan, as she had a few unpleasant looking bruises to cover up.

After perhaps an hour of dozing, she vaguely sensed that she had company. Cracking an eyelid, she saw Akane sitting a few feet away, appearing to be deep in thought. "Hey."

"Hey, sis. I... How are you doing?"

Nabiki sat up, stretched for a moment. "I think I'm doing fine. Ranma seems to think I'm making good progress. Coming from him, that has to count for something."

"You're feeling okay?"

She barked a laugh. "I'm tired, bruised, and sore. But I'm mostly okay. He's a good teacher, knows how to get his point across."

"Like that baka can really teach anyone." Akane's tone had gone bitter again.

Nabiki looked at her sister, who would not meet her gaze. Normally, she found this sort of thing entertaining, but at the moment, she just didn't want to deal with it. "Believe what you want. His training is working, and until you try to learn from him, don't decide he can't teach." She stood, turned towards the house. Taking a breath, she focused on her ki, took two steps, then did a standing jump to the edge of the roof. She didn't clear it by much, perhaps two inches, the balls of her feet hitting the rooftop. She shifted her weight forward, quickly walked a few steps up. She paused a moment, centering her balance, and then lay down over one of the rooms, placing a foot for balance where the roof jutted out for its window. It wasn't as comfortable as the lawn chair, but she could get some rest up here.

------------

Akane stared at her sister for a long moment, mouth agape. How in the kami's names had she pulled that off? Akane herself couldn't do that!

Could it be that the baka was onto something? It certainly seemed like it.

And if he could help Nabiki, less skilled than herself, what could she achieve under his tutelage?

Ugly thought, that. But it had its seductive charms. Were she honest with herself, Akane would realize that she was terribly, terribly jealous of what Ranma, Ryoga, Mousse, even Shampoo could do. Pride had kept her from asking anyone for help or training – daddy had told her she was great, so why would she _need_ any help?

In something of a daze, she left the house, feeling a need to just walk for a while. Thoughts whirling, she walked, no destination in mind, just one foot in front of the other. A few friends waved or said hi, she'd responded automatically and without any real thought. Finally, hours later, she found herself in a park. As she sat, she took a long moment to gather her scattered thoughts.

1)Ranma had managed to teach Nabiki some excellent tricks, presumably use of ki.

1a)Therefore, Ranma was capable of teaching.

2)Akane had more potential and more skill than Nabiki.

2a)Therefore, if Ranma could help Nabiki improve, he could probably help her improve more.

3) Therefore, it was in Akane's best interests to seek such training.

All she'd have to do for that, would be to walk up to Ranma and ask him for help. Possibly a few times. The two of them had not exactly had the friendliest of relationships over the last year or so. Going to him for help – be honest, not simply help but training – was not going to be easy. Akane groaned in frustration as she realized that he'd probably gloat at her, that damnable baka, and he might just refuse outright. If nothing else he'd laugh at the request.

Would he? She'd never expected him to agree to teach anyone. And yet he was teaching Nabiki. She wasn't sure what to think about that. Not knowing was frustrating as all hell. She wanted to hit something; to vent the frustration.

Unfortunately for him, Happosai volunteered for that duty by bounding up, large bundle of stolen undergarments on his back. "Why, fancy meeting you here, little Akane! Can you help a poor old man?"

"Help you? Help you _what_?" Akane's reply was a growl.

"Why, liberate these silky darlings from their cruel oppressors." In the distance, Akane could see a howling mob of outraged women charging towards them.

_Does this hentai really think I'd help him?_ Akane thought. The look in the old man's eyes was answer enough. _Yes. Yes he does._

The founder of the Musabetsu Kakutō Ryū school of martial arts saw the look in Akane's eye. It didn't properly register right off; normally the youngest Tendo girl didn't take much action against him, leaving such things to his other students. So Akane suddenly sprouting a blazing red battle aura didn't fully register until she was in mid-swing. He tried to leap away as the mallet – and where had she pulled _that_ from? - slammed into him, sending him up, up and away, his silky darlings scattered across the park.

When he started coming down again, he was over the bay. Below, he saw a few ships heading out to sea. One of them looked like a passenger ship. Well, you have to land somewhere...

Back in the park, Akane looked at her mallet, feeling far better suddenly. Partially, it was from good, old fashioned simple joy from smashing something. Partially, it was from unloading much pain on the damned pervert. The cheers from the ladies who'd been in pursuit of Happi helped a lot, too. She gave a contented sigh. She never really knew where she got these mallets from, or where they went, but they were ever so convenient. This one was significantly more ornate than the usual, rough-carved hardwood and banded with blackened iron. Hopefully she'd find it again the next time she needed one.

For a few minutes, she helped the crowd of women sort through the scattered underwear, matching pairs to owners. Then, after more than a few words of thanks, she was on her own. She had a decision to make. Ah well, there was still plenty of time before dark. Picking a direction, she started walking again.

------------------------------

Ukyo had been happy enough for the midafternoon slump – the morning rush had sort of blended with the lunch rush, and there'd been a few hours when she'd thought that herself and Konatsu weren't going to be able to keep up. It had calmed down finally, and she was catching up on the cleanup when Ranma wandered in.

"Heya, Uu-chan."

"Ranma! Great to see you, it's been a few days."

Her beloved shrugged and took a seat, plunking a backpack on the floor next to him. "I've been busy. Had some time today, so I figured I'd drop in." He nodded to Konatsu, the ninja returned it. "How's business been?"

"Crazy. I love it. You?"

"Been keepin' real busy, actually. Working on some of my own stuff, an' training Nabs."

"So that's not just a rumor? What's she paying you?"

"Not a lot, but it's still worth doin'. Gonna have to know how eventually, an' its interesting."

Ukyo threw an okonomiyaki on the grill for Ranma. "Heard another rumor that you're working with the Senshi now, anything to that one?"

"Yeah. Remember that buncha magical cops I told ya about after my trip?" He waited for her nod. "Well, they kinda deputized me. They're workin' with the Senshi too, an' I got told to help deal with any demons that pop up 'round town over summer break." He shrugged. "More of 'em than they expected, but the fights are decent practice. Pays a decent per deim, too."

"My Ranma-kun, noble protector of the city." She gave a mock romantic sigh. "It's the stuff of a girl's dreams."

They shared a laugh. "Yeah, it's kinda weirding me out too. Heh, an hour ago I was roof-hopping around Nerima, just kinda keepin' an eye out, an' I realized I was posing on top of the school like some dumb Super Sentai hero."

"I wonder what you'd look like as one of the Kamen Riders?"

"Same as any other, they got those full-face masks." A chuckle. "Mark that, it would depend on how waterproof the suit was. I always seem to attract water." They both laughed at that.

-----------------------

Hours passed. Ranma and Nabiki were doing some light sparring in the dojo. Akane still hadn't gotten back from wherever she'd run off to – and nobody was telling Ranma a thing about that. He suspected Nabs at least knew why she'd left. He was trying to figure the odds that he'd find out the hard-and-painful way. Probably very good, given the way his life usually went. Still, he kept his head in the now – he and Nabs were sparring and he needed to concentrate at least a little on that.

The sound of a throat clearing brought him out of his musings. Glancing behind him, he saw Akane standing at the door, looking pale and nervous. He'd expected angry or frustrated from the tomboy. Nerves, not so much. This would be interesting. "Take five, Nabs." The two fighters stepped back from each other, exchanged quick bows, then he walked over to Akane. "Hey. You okay? We missed you at dinner."

"I.. had some thinking to do."

"Fair enough. Seriously, you okay? You're not looking so well."

She took a deep breath, visibly steadied herself. "I want your help. I want you to teach me, like you're teaching Nabiki."

Ranma gaped. This, he had not expected. "Are you serious, Akane?"

"Yes. I- I know this probably sounds odd, from me, but.. I want to be a great martial artist. I think... looking back on the last few years, I've just been coasting, not pushing myself. I thought I was great, before I met you."

"Well, to be fair, Akane, I'm nowhere near a fair metric for 'average martial artist.' Hell, neither are you. Anywhere else in Japan, you'd be the local champ easy. Nerima's just on a weirdly skewed curve. 'S why I like it here; keeps me on my toes."

She managed a slight laugh. "I guess. And I know that, really. It's just hard to remember some times." She took another breath, a little less ragged than the last. "Earlier today, I watched Nabiki do a standing jump from the deck to the roof."

"One of the first floor bits?"

"Yeah."

He glanced at Nabs, who was taking a quick drink. "Not bad, student. Not bad at all." She raised the cup in a mock salute.

"Anyway," said Akane, "I went and did some thinking. I think... I think that, if you're willing to teach me, I'm willing to be your student." A weak smile. "I like being the strongest Tendo sister. I'm not about to let her take that away." All three managed a slight laugh at that.

Ranma thought for a moment, nodding slowly. "Okay," he said after a long moment. "Okay, if you're up for learning, I'm up for teaching ya. But not tonight." He raised a hand to cut off a protest. "You look pretty wrung out, Akane. It'll probably work out better if you get some rest an' join us in the mornin'."

The young martial artist frowned but nodded, recognizing the truth in what Ranma said. "Okay. In the morning then."

------------------------------------

The _Lagoon_ bounced along the waves as she returned from a delivery to a small cove just south of Checheng, Taiwan. It was a longer trip than most they ran, but the money had been good, making it well worth it as far as Dutch was concerned. He and Benny were doing this run, with Rock and Revy back in Roanapur, trying to drum up some more business. The balance of power had shifted in Roanapur again, and that always slowed business down for a while. In this case, the Yakuza had lost a fair bit of ground thanks to their deal with Hotel Moscow.

Dutch wasn't surprised. Balalaika wasn't one to ignore an opening, and their little deal in Japan had left the Yaks wide open. With typical Russian ruthlessness, Hotel Moscow had moved in.

Dutch didn't much mind. Balalaika and her crew had been There. For him, There had been a rain-soaked jungle hell; for Hotel Moscow There had been a deathly dry desert. The details didn't really matter. It helped him understand them, and they him. Some of the other bosses thought he was just a toady to Balalaika, but he didn't care. None of them had served, and thus he didn't really give a fuck if they didn't like him.

Dutch was nursing a Heineken in the wheelhouse. Benny was on deck, enjoying the sunrise. After a few minutes, the younger man hit his radio. "Hey Dutch! I think I see someone in the water."

The black man blinked, grabbed the radio. "What, guy in a boat?"

Benny was pointing now. "Nope, overboard. Looks like a little guy in a life ring. Not seeing a wrecked boat, just the guy."

For a long moment Dutch considered what to do. Marine law or not, he didn't really care that much about J. Random Shipwrecked Man, but something about this intrigued him. After a moment, he decided that a bit of random good karma would probably do him no harm; and after all, they weren't actually carrying anything illegal right now.

He kept an eye on the fathometer, just in case there was some reef he didn't know about that took out the other guy's ship, and followed Benny's pointing arm. In a few moments, they pulled alongside the drifting life ring. As Dutch went on deck, Benny fished the old guy out of the water. He was a small, wrinkly little gink, nodding his thanks to them both as he babbled something.

"You understand that turkey gobble?"

Benny shook his head. "Not a word, though I think he's speaking Japanese. Should raise Rock?"

Dutch thought for a moment. "Why not?" He walked back to the wheelhouse. "Come on, old man, get inside and dry off. We'll get ya to land, beyond that, we can work it out."

Though he didn't seem to understand the words, the small man understood the tone, and followed the two expatriate Americans into the _Lagoon._

_Author's note: Yeah, I know. Unlike most stories(like Ranma and Sailor Moon, for instance) which have a deliberately undefined timeline that's sort of a floating-point-present-day, Black Lagoon is explicitly set in the mid-1990s. This gets quite clear when you look at some of the electronics the characters use(Benny's computers and Revy's Walkman especially). So technically, the timeline doesn't really jive properly to have them alongside the other series in this. My inner pedant thinks this is not something I should be doing. To my inner pedant, and any pedantic readers, I ask the benefit of the doubt. I know this is kinda wrong, but given how wildly different the apparent present day's are in the other series involved(Ranma and Sailor Moon can't be much newer than the 80s in setting; whereas Nanoha was in the early 2000s even before the season 3 timeskip) I hope I can be forgiven for this bit of setting ledgermain. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Blah Blah disclaimer blah: I don't own this, I'm not getting any money for this, I make no claims to other author's characters, and I'm not worth suing._

-Chapter Six-

A light rain fell on Tokyo this morning.

Really, it wasn't much more than a cool drizzle, but it made its impact felt on Ranma as the aquatransexual was lobbed into the back yard. The redhead landed with a frown. Genma was hesitating before following her out into the yard for their regular morning spar. "Get out here ya damned panda!"

Genma hesitated a moment longer, then charged. Ranma met the panda's charge in the middle of the yard and they began their morning ritual. Ranma took his time this morning; partly in the hopes of getting her father to pop out something he hadn't seen before, partly because, given that the rain had already transformed them both, the usual metric of landing one or the other in the koi pond as a victory condition was kind of moot. And partially, to give Akane and Nabs time to get up and head for the Dojo.

She was having second thoughts about training Akane. She'd been on the receiving end of her wrath too many times _not _to have them. Part of her had lept at the chance to train Akane, a part of herself that she didn't like to look at too closely. Still, Akane had _loads_ of potential – there'd been evidence of that a few times over the last year or so, especially that madness with the battle dogi. It was kind of dumb how she ignored it – Ranma had come to the opinion that nothing was more destructive to a fighter's abilities than the phrase 'good enough' – but she wasn't about to try and force a destructive little anger-factory to do somethin' she didn't want to do.

But Akane wanting training... Ranma figured the odds of it working were going to be directly proportionate to whether or not Akane was willing to learn or if she simply wanted to magically become better overnight. If Akane was sincere in realizing that she wasn't Ranma's equal already – her position for the longest time – then this could work. The redhead suspected that wasn't going to be the case. Ranma wasn't sure how this was gonna go, though she could think of a few places to start from.

Akane could do some amazing things, but she didn't seem conscious of her ability to do them. In a fight, she could throw massive boulders around. Out of one, she had trouble lifting Ryoga's umbrella. Ability coupled to ignorance was kind of a scarey combination. She would be able to do amazing things if she could harness her abilities deliberately.

If she was willing to learn- which Ranma figured she was. Akane simply admitting her relative lack of skill to Ranma was a big enough step that the youngest Tendo wouldn't have done it if she wasn't sincere.

It wasn't really going to be a question of power- she had that. But the question was going to be one of control. She didn't really know how to use the power she already had, and Ranma figured fixing that would make the rest come together. Probably. Ranma figured the same techniques she'd shown Nabs for that would work.

Of course, this led to another problem. Akane generated ki through an emotional focus. But while Ranma channeled his focus through confidence, and Ryoga used depression, Akane used anger. That was harder to control, and Ranma had a feeling that, just as his own confidence grew very quickly over the course of a battle as he made use of it, and Ryoga's depression grew, if Akane started deliberately using her own ki abilities... she'd get madder. Ranma'd been on the receiving end of her temper enough times that she didn't like that thought. Perhaps teach her the Soul of Ice as a way to focus? Might be worth trying, but the Soul of Ice was a rather advanced technique... probably beyond Akane's abilities, at least for now.

Perhaps it was time to talk with another teacher, get an idea on how to work around that? Ranma glanced at her father. No, not the panda. Someone else. Soun, perhaps? Might work, but he'd given up on training his girls before, he might not be willing to help Ranma at all. The old lech was, of course, right out.

Which left the old ghoul. Kamis alone knew if she'd be willing to help him with this. Probably not, but the aquatransexual wouldn't know until she checked. Something else to do after the morning's training.

Without warning, Ranma found herself flying back from a hefty blow. _Baka_, she thought, glaring at her father and preparing for a landing. _Keep your mind on the fight at hand. Pops still has a trick'r two._

_-------------_

Genma Saotome tried not to _growf_ in disappointment as Ranma corrected her fall without calling on her thrice-damned flight technique. Not for the first time the aging martial artist cursed himself for being so shocked by it the first time he'd seen it. Ranma had been playing things close to his chest since then, not giving him a good look at it. Genma needed to teach the boy a lesson in respecting his elders. It wasn't fair of him to keep the technique a secret from his father, who'd so selflessly dedicated his life to training his son to be a master.

Sadly, as with many of the more advanced and impressive techniques he'd learned without Genma's help, Ranma had refused to share the mighty gift of flight with is father. To make matters worse, the ungrateful boy was teaching Tendo's daughter with the expressed purpose of mastering said technique.

Somehow, the boy had become immune to the secret Saotome Request and Begging Techniques, as well as outright demands that he share the secret of his newfound skills. Ungrateful boy.

The thought occurred to try and offer some kind of exchange. Genma had taught the boy everything he knew. Well, almost everything, the wizened old Amazon matriarch had taught him some. Still. Ranma didn't know everything Genma knew. He still had many secret techniques of his own. None of them matched the power of the Umi Sen Ken, perhaps, but they were still powerful. And where he'd stopped developing many of those techniques as his focus changed over the years, Ranma could likely come up with all sorts of interesting developments. The part of him that was a loving father who enjoyed watching his son exceed his expectations rather liked that thought. The more practical part of him pointed out that he already couldn't beat the lad in a sparring match reliably.

No, he would have to fall back on the Saotome techniques of observing and learning another's capabilities. It simply would not be right for his son to be able to beat him.

Annoyingly, it was going to take some effort to correct that little facet of the universe. Ranma was clearly distracted about something – probably his arrogant assumption of being worthy of the mantle of teacher. Genma had not, after all, declared him a Master. And even distracted, Genma was pushing himself to keep up- it didn't help that he was slower than normal in his cursed form- blasted extra mass – and the boy was faster. It was simply unfair; he should be able to take on his own son when said son was distracted. Still, he was not a master.

That he technically couldn't declare his son a Master of the Anything Goes school – not being one himself thanks to the Master's decision that neither he nor Soun were worthy. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, Genma regretted skimping on the dynamite when they'd sealed him into that damned cave.

* * *

Akane tried not to sigh as she walked along the Tendo Dojo's back fence. She almost felt insulted. She'd come to Ranma for training and he starts her on something so basic as balance? It made sense for him to start Nabiki on this, but Akane was better than that.

She was having second thoughts about this idea. Most of the morning's training had been basics and fundamentals, surely stuff he was aiming at Nabiki rather than her. She was a martial artist too, and these basics were insult-

Distracted by her fuming, she missed a step, and toppled to the ground. Again. It was ridiculous that Ranma was assigning her such a stupid bit of 'homework.' The sound of a nearby chuckle did _not_ help. Nabiki was working her way across the opposite fence. She wasn't moving quite as quickly as Akane, but she hadn't fallen yet.

"Something amusing you sister?"

"Not a thing, Akane."

Growling something unprintable about both Ranma and Nabiki, Akane climbed back to the fencetop and started walking again. Jerks, the pair of them. She walked on, concentrating on her footing. She continued for a time, then nearly stumbled. "Baka Ranma and his baka ideas..."

"It'll work better if you go a little slower, sis."

"This is ridiculous, why does he have me doing this?"

"At a guess? You told him you wanted to be stronger. He's probably trying to do just that."

"So he wants me to do stupid stuff like this? I can see why he'd get you doing this but I'm already a martial artist!"

Nabiki decided to ignore the shot taken at her. "Remember what Father told us in the old days? The basics are important. I think what Ranma's trying to do is help you train up to his or Ryoga's level. So he's starting by helping you improve on the basic stuff. Think about some of the crazy jumps they can land."

Akane was about to retort, but paused for a moment to parse her sister's statement. "That makes a disturbing amount of sense."

"There's a method to his madness."

"I suppose." She frowned thoughtfully as she kept walking. "You've put some thought into this, trying to figure this out."

"If I'm going to trust him for training, I'm going to try and figure things out. I can't figure all of it out, but I think it's worth working on."

"Figured it all out?"

"Nowhere near all of it. But if Ranma's logic starts to make perfect sense to me I have other problems."

The sisters shared a laugh as they continued.

* * *

Ranma was currently roof-hopping. The rhythm of a good run was helping him clear his head. He was still trying to work out how best to help Akane. Lots of ideas, but he wasn't sure how best to go about them, or what would even work.

He was brought out of his reverie by the Youma alarm going off. He planted his next landing, pulled the detector out of his pocket. Nothing like a good fight to clear the head! He punched the Localize button, bringing a map of Tokyo up on the screen, but it didn't zoom in like it had the last few times. "What the..." After a moment, it hit him. There were two red dots on the map, with most of the city between them. That made things a bit more complicated than he liked.

Ranma considered this for a moment, then gripped his communication pendent. _Sailor Pluto? Is my detector broken or do we have two different groups here?_

The reply was almost immediate. _Two groups. This is... unusual._

_ All of us stomp one then the other, or split up?_

_ Split up, I think. Can you handle one alone?_

_ Of course I can!_ Ranma shot back, pride stinging. _If I'm readin' this right, one of em's fairly close to me. Uh, the one on the left of my screen._

_ We'll go after the other ones. Good luck._

_---------------_

The creature was perhaps a dozen feet tall, wiry and long limbed. It stalked along the street. From one of its hands a rippling cone of pale energy swept out, washing over objects without harming them, but dropping any people it struck to the ground, writhing and moaning in pain and weakness. From its other hand lanced out a purple beam of equal-opportunity destruction, tearing gouges out of the streets and buildings. A strange, sadistic laugh bubbled from its throat as it moved down the street.

Ranma took barely a moment to look over the potential battlefield before moving in. People were trying to run; he'd been as fast as he could getting here, but he'd sadly given the thing time to find some victims. Time to put a stop to it.

He launched himself at the thing; which barely had time to turn its horned head towards him before he connected with its skull. "_Nagareboshi Kyaku!_" The thing half spun around as it reeled back. Ranma followed up by sweeping its legs out from under it with a kick. He tried to follow up with another kick, but the creature managed to roll to its feet, leaving his heel to crash home against the pavement.

Ranma launched into a combination attack, landing several blows against the Youma, which fell back before his attack. After most of a minute, Ranma smirked. He'd taken the measure of this thing; it was time to finish this. "_Amaguriken!_" Several hundred punches and two seconds later, the creature flew backwards from the collective force of the blows, landing in a heap on the blacktop.

"Man, you suck. At least yer friends have been workouts. I'm barely sweatin' here." Ranma chuckled at the apparently wounded Youma, caught his breath.

_Wait a second... why am I out of breath? That was nothin! _The martial artist quickly took stock of himself. _I'm... kinda tired. That was barely a warmup. What the hell?_

Before he could parse the situation, the Youma rolled halfway to its feet with a snarl. Distracted, Ranma didn't realize it was firing its rippling cone until the blast washed over him, and with it, a wave of weakness. As soon as he noticed it he dodged aside, putting a car between himself and the monster.

_What the- that was like Miss Hinako's ki-leech. Was it doin' that when I hit it too? _A glance over the car showed the Youma on its feet and looking as strong as it had been at the start of the fight. "Oh, this'll be interesting," he muttered. It was still projecting its cone, looking closer Ranma saw that the cone seemed to come from a bright yellow circle on the palm of the creature's long-fingered left hand. _Drains through a circle. Betcha it works like Hinako's, too. Time to plug a hole. _He slipped into the Umi Sen Ken and looked around for something that would do the job.

The Youma, losing 'sight' of the most deliciously rich morsel it had seen since arriving on this world, looked around in confusion for a moment. Snarling, it closed its left hand, opened the right. From a disk of flesh the colour of eggplant, a blast of destructive power lashed out, systematically tearing apart any cover its meal might be hiding behind.

Frustration mounted as it tore into the street. After exploding a lunch cart, it shrieked, "Where do you hide, coward? Do you fear me?"

Simultaneously, something thick and sticky slammed over its left hand, and Ranma reappeared beside it. A heavy blow to the back sent the Youma sprawling again, as its meal said, "Fear? Nah. But I needed a party favor to deal with your little ki-sucking trick. Ready for round two?"

The Youma looked at the thing on its hand – a bucket of roofing tar Ranma had been fortunate enough to spot – and sneered. In an amber flash, the bucket and tar vanished, and the smug martial artist scrambled to dodge another wave of draining energy.

_That plan worked so much better in my head, _thought Ranma as he darted in again, landing a heavy kick to the creature's knee. He followed up with an uppercut that knocked the creature back again. Concentrating on it this time, he felt a distinct lessening of his ki with the punch. _So all of it can drain, not just the thing on its hand. Well then._

Ranma sent a hail of debris at the creature, turning the leavings of its destructive rampage against it. The creature ignored the projectiles, returning fire with both of its beams. For a few moments, Ranma managed to keep ahead of it, pelting it with bits of concrete and asphalt, trying to find out if there were any bits it would go out of its way to protect. It was beginning to look like it didn't have any anatomy that it liked to avoid having hit- and then its beam of violet death swept into a fire hydrant. The resulting explosion of water and shrapnel clipped Ranma enough to send the now-redhead to the street, off balance. She lept to her feet just in time to catch a follow-up blast in the stomach.

Ranma crashed backwards, one shoulder skidding against the pavement for a moment. Wincing, Ranma got to her feet and vanished again into the Umi Sen Ken, ignoring the monster's outraged shriek that it was no fair if she cheated.

_Okay, if I touch it, it drains my ki. If it sees me, it blasts me at the same time. Good odds that trying to blast it ain't gonna do nothin' but make it stronger. An it don't got weak spots._ Ranma moved quickly, trying to avoid its indiscriminate blasts and come up with a plan at the same time. Punching was out, blasting was out, and her kicks, while dangerous, just weren't as strong as the other attacks she could land. She wished for a fleeting moment for a pair of heavy gloves, then the aquatransexual's eyes lit on a signpost, somehow missed by the monster's fury. _Well, there's always the brute-force approach._

Ranma darted across the street and grabbed the signpost. With both hands she yanked upward as her heel cracked down against the sidewalk at the posts' base. The impact rattled up her leg and cracked the concrete. With a groaning crack, the sidewalk gave way, and Ranma lept away from the blast of purple energy the rather noisy action had drawn.

Ranma was a red-and-black blur as she charged, bringing the sign down in an overhand swing that crashed into the Youma's shoulder; thin metal of the sign itself crumpling around the steel of the pole. She followed up with a quick jab to the chest with the other end of the pole, knocking the creature off balance. Ranma wound up for another mighty swing to finish the Youma-

And was rudely interrupted by the thing's left hand closing around her arm. Direct from the source, the energy drain was greatly intensified. The various scrapes and bruises Ranma's attacks had left vanished almost instantly, the creature seemed to grow with the energy it absorbed. "I shall give you this, mortal. You are both tenacious and delicious."

"I ain't yer meal," Ranma growled, then planted both feet into the Youma's chin. The impact caused it to lose its grip. With agility most people would consider flatly impossible, Ranma got both hands beneath herself, launched away from the predatory monster in a handspring. She began darting from cover to cover, moving fast as the Youma, now far more powerful than it had been at the start, was sending out not purple _beams_ of destruction, but wider cones that tore great swathes out of the street.

_Time for a gambit. That thing took a lot outa me, but I ain't lettin' it win._ A glance showed that the Youma was walking towards her, cackling madly. _One last burst of speed here..._

Ranma charged into the street, putting everything she had into a burst of speed. The Youma began to turn towards her as she scooped up the fallen signpost, but could not quite catch the speeding redhead with a blast in time.

_"Modified Amaguriken! Furious Steel Barrage!"_ The pipe, held evenly by Ranma, blurred into motion and rained a fusillade of blows onto the Youma's arms and shoulders. They were by no means as fast as what Ranma could manage with fists, but they were still faster than virtually anyone else on Earth could have done. The ends of the pipe landed with force sufficient to crack bone in any human opponent, and the Youma jerked back and forth from the assault, limbs hanging oddly from its shoulders. She kept up the assault for perhaps half a minute before dropping a step back and letting fly with one last mighty hail-Mary swing, one end of the pole catching the Youma's chin with jaw-shattering force. The monster flailed and fell backwards, greyish blood flying in an arc that followed the pole as it fell. It hit the pavement and lay still.

Ranma looked upon the fallen Youma for a moment in silence before letting her impromptu weapon drop from nerveless fingers. Throwing around that much mass with the Amaguriken had been, to put it lightly, taxing, and both arms burned with fatigue. Chest heaving with exhausted breath, she turned and began to stagger away. That had been a hell of a-

The violet blast caught Ranma full in the back, threw her half a block. _Oh, right, _thought a tired corner of Ranma's mind, _They go to dust when they die, not just fall over. This landing is gonna hurt._

She was right. Rolling to a stop, Ranma struggled to stand, facing the Youma. "Don't you know when to roll over and die, already?"

The Youma didn't look much healthier than Ranma felt. "I could say the same of you, mortal. Be a good meal and stay still a moment." Though it was unsteady, its left hand raised inexorably.

"_Silence Glaive Surprise!_" The street was bathed in a burst of white light, seeming to emanate from a sudden hole in the Youma's chest. Along with the light, the monster faded into dust.

For a moment, Ranma simply stared at the figure revealed where the Youma had been. She was clad in a fuku of white and purple. In her hands was a polearm of some sort, silver blade glowing with power that the martial artist could feel even from here. "Thanks for the save." She quickly ran the list of Senshi through her head. "Sailor Saturn, right?"

"Yes. Are you alright?" The Senshi's weapon vanished as she walked towards Ranma.

"Been hurt worse than this before." Ranma straightened up as best she could, trying not to show any weakness. She shrugged. "I'da figured out something." A pause. "Not sure _what,_ but I'da come up with something."

She seemed amused, and Ranma couldn't really blame her. "Of course you would have." A thoughtful expression crossed her features. "Given what the others have told me, it must have been quite the Youma."

"Yeah. Didn't help that it hit me with some kinda ki-drain." A pause. "Good timing."

"When I heard the alert, I responded as quickly as I could. Pluto sent me to assist you. I am sorry I was not here sooner."

"It's okay. I'm still mostly in one piece. Gonna be sore in the morning."

"Thank you. Still..." She closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated.

Ranma's breath caught as a warmth filled her, scrapes and wounds healing. "Hey! That's a really cool trick."

She smiled. "Thank you."

Ranma took a deep breath, rolled both shoulders to make sure they felt fine. "Think the others need help finishin' up?"

Saturn closed her eyes a moment. "They've finished theirs too."

"Well, good. Thanks for the assist, and the heal." Ranma shook her head a moment. "Almost monster chow. That woulda been a real embarrassing way to die. Hopefully the rest of the day'll be easier." She turned to go, paused. "It's funny some of the turns the journey of life takes, isn't it?"

The dark haired girl smiled. "It is."

* * *

Ami Mizuno had been on Mid Childa for just over a week, and she'd wanted to visit the Infinite Library since she'd heard of it after arriving. She was getting that chance tonight. The others wanted her to see if she could learn how Intelligent Devices worked, and if there was a way to make them talk to their wielders casually. None of them were terribly comfortable with being addressed as 'Sir' or 'Madame', to say nothing of 'Master,' as Ruby Light insisted on calling Rei.

But given what little she'd managed to learn of how the devices worked – or at least Crystal Dance, her own – she sincerely doubted she could find a way to make them do anything they didn't want to do. Yes, they were AIs, but they were far in advance of anything she personally had even dreamed of working with. It would be a question of convincing them, not changing or forcing. Crystal Dance was programed to follow an old Mid Childan code of courtesy, something it claimed was standard for all Devices.

Ami would certainly keep an eye out for anything that might shed light on things – if nothing else, if she could find information about that old code she might be able to find a loophole. But frankly, she was hoping the Library lived up to its billing. She intended to get lost in the stacks for a few hours of studious, intellectual bliss.

Further visits could have more purpose, but where the others could find sufficient relaxation in simply chatting or resting(or shopping), she needed something more mentally interesting. And she'd been studying magic for days like it was the night before an exam. She needed something else.

Identifying herself at the door, she entered the Infinite Library and walked into the main chamber, mouth dropping open in unashamed awe.

She could not see the roof. She could not see the far wall. She could not, she noted after a moment when she looked down, see the floor. Shelf after shelf after shelf of books stretched farther than her eyes could see.

Bliss.

After a moment of reverence, Ami picked a direction. Books in all of them so why be choosy? Taking a moment to concentrate on Crystal Dance, she lifted off and slowly flew amid the stacks.

For the most part, the books she could see were hardcovers, titles embossed in the spines in a variety of languages – if for nothing else, the translator built into her upgraded Talisman would help Ami forgive nearly any flaw. She drifted at random, encountering a handful of other browsers but mostly on her own. She pulled a few random titles from the shelves, ones that caught her eye.

After a while, she decided to try and find a place to land so she could read her newly discovered treasures. From the entrance she'd spotted a few ledges here and there along the wall, furnished with chairs and low tables. One of those would do nicely.

Taking a moment to re-orient herself(she still wasn't quite used to flying) she headed for the nearest wall. She could only see one ledge from her current floating point, and it seemed occupied by a single reader. There were other chairs, however, and she felt it likely that as long as she was quiet she would be welcome.

The reader, a sandy-haired man in his early twenties, looked up from his book as she touched down. "Good evening, miss. Welcome to the Infinite Library."

"Thank you. I'm very impressed."

He smiled. "First time here, I take it?" At her nod, he continued. "In that case, you're doubly welcome. I'm Yunno Scrya, the head librarian here."

"Ami Mizuno. I'm, well, a student I suppose."

He looked distant a moment at that name. "Oh, one of Nanoha's special class?"

"Yes. You know Instructor Takamachi?"

His expression turned wistful for a moment. "We're old friends. She's mentioned you, actually. Quite impressed by you. I understand you're something of a scholar?"

Ami blushed slightly. "I am. I'm studying to become a doctor."

Yunno nodded. "A noble endeavor." After a moment, he started. "Ah, I'm a poor host. Take a seat, please." As she moved to sit he gestured to one of the other chairs. "Miss Mizuno, I'd like to introduce my... guest of the evening, The Librarian."

Ami glanced at the indicated chair and blinked. At first glance, she'd assumed that what she'd seen in the chair was simply an odd cushion or pillow. Partially, this was because it looked like nothing so much as a heap of orange pile carpeting. Partially because one does not expect to see an Orangutan in a scholarly setting. But the shape was moving now, unfolding its arms from its lap and smiling a broad, yellow-toothed grin. "Ook." 1

Taken slightly aback, Ami said, "The pleasure is mine, mister Librarian." A pause. "Er, is that your name, or a title?"

"Ook Ook."

"I see. I apologize for staring, I didn't expect... well..."

"To see an Orangutan in a library?" asked Yunno with a grin. "Understandable. He doesn't come here often."

Yunno and the Librarian both chuckled. Ami managed a smile.

After a moment, Yunno asked, "So, was there anything in particular you came here to find, or did you just want to see the place?"

"Well, both really. I primarily wanted to look around and see, well, if it lived up to the name."

Yunno's grin widened. "Does it?"

"I think so, yes." Another chuckle went around the small alcove. "The others wanted me to see if I could do something about the way our Talismans address us."

_We simply strive to proper etiquette, Madame._

"Not fond of the titles?"

"Well, frankly, they make me feel a little bit... old." A smile. "I'm far too young to be a 'madame.' Is there a way to convince them to just use our names, or..."

Yunno shook his head. "It's frowned upon, 'proper military courtesy,' and all that, but it is doable. I can track down a copy of the old Courtesy Guides, if you'd like. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes, actually."

"Thank you, Mister Scrya, I would be most grateful." She could swear she heard Crystal Dance sniff.

"I'll be right back," said Yunno, quietly incanting a spell. The spell produced a small green orb that shot off into the stacks. The sandy-haired man was close behind it.

Leaving Ami alone with the Librarian.

She was trying not to stare, trying not to be rude. But she just couldn't keep from wondering. After a long and slightly awkward silence, she asked, "So, um, Mister Librarian? Have you always been an Orangutan, or..." her voice trailed off as she hoped she hadn't offended him. Various little factoids about Orangutans were running through her head, chief among them how incredibly strong they were compared to a human of equal mass.

His reply was amused. "Ook. Ook-ook."

"Oh, an accident? I hope I didn't bring up a sore subject." _Kamis save me, I hope I didn't offend him._

The Librarian waved dismissively. "Ook ook."

"Thank you." Relieved and emboldened, she asked, "Did they ever try to change you back?"

"Ook. Oook ook-ook."

"Advantages?"

The Librarian just grinned and opened his arms wide. She hadn't realized how long those arms were. As if to punctuate the point, the Orangutan bounded out of the chair and quickly scaled a goodly height on the wall, long arms and sure fingers finding grips and pulling his rangy body along with ease. About thirty feet above her, he turned slightly and waved with one hand, then quickly climbed back down.

Ami smiled. "I can see where that could be an advantage. Thank you for indulging my curiosity."

--------------

Yunno was in a thoughtful mood when he got home. He'd had an interesting conversation with Mizuno and The Librarian. The girl reminded him a bit of Nanoha – determined and smart. He suspected her sister Senshi were similar, determined to protect their home and loved ones. A noble goal.

He'd been able to find the information she'd asked for, an old book on the codes of courtesy. It should work for her purposes, and he doubted the brass would give them trouble for it. If he remembered the reports correctly they were considered allies rather than reservists, so there wasn't grounds to give them grief over that. He didn't think Nanoha would be likely to do so anyway.

The Senshi were getting a quick crash course – it had to be quick, for they had only a month worth of summer holiday. Yunno remembered that from his time living in Japan. Working on defenses now, she said, which in Nanoha's class probably meant they were being tested a few times a day by Vita. The hammer-swinging redhead was a terror; and a good motivator as far as defenses were concerned.

Still, for all it had been a while since he'd left the Infinite Library, he was still a specialist in defensive and support magic. He was about due for a chance to do something more active than trawling the stacks or having amused conversations with The Librarian, who was right now making his way home via L-Space. It was unusual for anyone to come to that particular ledge, which was why he and the Orangutan used it as a place to meet and commiserate about their jobs. He was rather glad miss Mizuno had decided to join them, though. He suspected she wouldn't mention things that would have _him_ asked uncomfortable questions by the brass.

Yes, he'd see if he could do something to help these Senshi. He wandered over to his comm console and called Nanoha's apartment.

The screen blinked off of the 'connecting' pattern to a familiar face, dirty blond hair framing mismatched eyes. "Unca Yuuno?"

"Hi Vivio. Is Nanoha around?"

The green-and-red eyed girl nodded. "Nanoha-mama is here." She turned away from the screen a moment. "Mama! Unca Yunno wants to talk to you!"

Nanoha joined her daughter at the screen. "Hello Yunno, how are you doing?"

"Just fine. One of your current students came by the Library tonight."

"Ami?"

"Yes. Anyway, she mentioned that you were throwing them to Vita's tender mercies for shield training."

"More or less. They're doing fairly well so far. Ami is even trying to create variants on the basic shields."

"She mentioned that. Anyway, I'm wondering if you'd like to give the girls a bit of an advantage. Shields are more or less my specialty and I've been looking for a chance to do something a little more active for a while anyway."

"Offering your services as a teaching assistant?"

"Indeed."

"I'll have to clear it with the Academy brass, but I think they'll be fine with it. Thank you."

Vivio waved good-bye as Nanoha cut the circuit. Yunno smiled. This would be interesting.

If nothing else, it would get him working with Nanoha again, and it had been too long since he'd done that.

* * *

1: Ami does indeed have a translator and understands what The Librarian is saying here, and as such it would perhaps make more sense to translate his speech in the text as well. That said, there are certain Ways Things Are Done, especially as relates to The Librarian's way of speaking. To tamper with those is to invite disaster.

* * *

The Outer Senshi were feeling run ragged. First two simultaneous Youma incursions, and then a third later in the same day. The third had come alone, and had fallen very quickly indeed to the combined wrath of the Outers and their temporary ally, though Ranma had been somewhat cagier in that battle than he had in the past. Setsuna reminded herself to ask Hotaru about that later, she might have seen something to dent the boy's ego and enthusiasm at the prospect of throwing himself headlong into a battle.

For the moment, the Outers, save Chibi-Usa, who was enjoying a 'family evening' at home, were gathered, trying to figure out what was going on. Normally there was at least some kind of sign or warning before any spike of Youma activity. There hadn't been one this time, and they still couldn't find anything. At the rate the attacks were coming, if things followed the usual pattern, they were running out of time before things began to _really_ escalate.

"I understand that the Time Gates can't find anything, even if we don't know why." Haruka was sounding frustrated. "But what about the Small Lady? She should have memories of this; if not firsthand then hearing about it from us someday?"

Setsuna nodded in agreement. "She almost certainly does. At this point, the reason she isn't telling us is that she didn't the first time, and that means now she can't. If she does, it would cause a paradox."

"Ugh. Time travel logic."

"I know, and I wish I had a better answer."

Michiru frowned, asked, "Is it possible that there's a catch of some kind? Perhaps one of us needs to specifically ask?"

"I suppose it's worth a try, but I suspect she would have given me a clue." The Senshi of Time sighed. "I strongly dislike not knowing what's going to happen."

They were all quiet for a moment, then Haruka said, "Well, with a little luck it might be like last time, when the TSAB showed up. Something useful might happen from this."

"I suppose we're due _some_ good luck by now."

For a long moment the four Senshi sat in silence, nursing drinks or simply thinking. Haruka turned to Hotaru. "So, now that you've seen him in action, what do you think of our new friend?"

"I quite like him, actually. He seems skilled, intelligent, and adaptable. The Youma he fought earlier today tried to drain his life-energy, and it seemed to me like he was trying to think of a way to evade or defeat that kind of ability tonight."

"Well, that _does_ match some of the stories. He's supposed to be hard to beat the same way twice." The blonde Senshi smiled. "He heals fast, he seemed to be okay tonight."

"I helped a little with that." Hotaru smiled. "His reaction to my healing abilities was nice. He liked them, unlike most who've found out."

Michiru nodded. "He may not be a mage, but he's certainly not a 'normal.' Even leaving his curse aside." She took a drink. "Though I wish we didn't have need for an ally right now, I'm glad we have one as skilled as he."

The others agreed to both points.

* * *

"Okay, Akane, time for sparring." Ranma said as he came through the back door of the Dojo.

"Senshi thing dealt with?"

"Yeah. Five of us on one Youma. Almost felt bad for the sucker." He accepted a drink from Kasumi with a slight bow.

"Well, I'll let Nabiki know and get my gi."

"Thanks. Oh, Akane, before you go..." He waited for her to pause and glance his way. "When I pair you off against Nabs, try an' be careful. She ain't done the kinda strength an' toughness trainin' we have."

Akane blinked, confused. "Are you telling me to go easy on her? That doesn't sound like good training for either of us."

"I ain't sayin' go easy." His grin had an edge to it. "I'm sayin', don't break your sister. Control is more important than power, an' it's harder to learn, so I want ya startin' on it now."

Akane nodded, thought about that as she headed for her room. Nabiki had apparently been listening, and passed her halfway. Control. She could see that, she supposed. And she definitely didn't want to hurt Nabiki, at least, not right now, though she didn't think it needed to be emphasized like that. It went without saying, really.

Quickly she slipped into her gi, bounded down the stairs. A proper, full-on sparring match with Ranma. That meant he wouldn't be leaping every which-way and generally mocking her ability with his own effortless grace. This would be good. This would be a match she would learn from.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: This is intended as tribute and entertainment and does not make any claim on other author's characters. Please don't sue, I'm poor._

-Chapter 7-

_A desecrated Budda,_ thought Happosai as the _Lagoon_ put into the harbor at Roanapur, _I may not be a religious man, but that seems an... interesting sign._ Standing at the ships bow, he took a few puffs on his pipe. _It shows an appalling lack of respect for one's elders and traditions, if nothing else. They probably won't know how to properly treat a poor old man._

How had the young gentleman on the radio described the place? Ah yes, a rough town, but one with possibilities. The Grand Master of the Anything Goes School of Indiscriminate Grappling wasn't exactly worried about finding himself in an unfamiliar and 'rough' town, beyond possibly getting bored. He hoped it was the entertaining kind of rough town, one that was a den of vice, and not the kind that was rough because everyone who lived there was an uncouth laborer. Laborers tended to be even less respectful than certain former students he could name.

He'd not had much of a chance to speak to young mister... ah yes, Rokuro. The lad had sounded calm and businesslike, though unless the old master missed his guess, the youngster had been talking around a lot of things. That was the problem with radios and telephones and such, there was so much more than words to communication. When you stripped it down to words it got so much easier to lie.

Ah well. He wasn't floating in a tiny ring at the mercy of the tides any more. Even if this turned out to be one of the 'boring' rough towns, well, nowhere in southeast asia was beyond the reach of the Yakuza. He was reasonably certain his name was still remembered and feared in those circles. If he asked nicely he was sure he could get them to provide him transport back to Japan, if only to get him out of the area.

He tapped his pipe on the ship's rail, settling its contents. It was unfortunate, that the passenger ship he'd landed on had access to something so potent as to knock him unconscious. Even more, that they'd had the gall to taint perfectly good sake with it. Uncouth, disrespectful youngsters. No-one appreciated him anymore. Idly, he wondered what they'd dosed him with, it had kept him out for a few minutes even after he'd hit the water.

Ah well, the fates had smiled and he'd been plucked from the sea by these two gentlemen. Though neither spoke any civilized tongue they'd been reasonably polite to him. The black fellow had the comportment of a warrior, though his Hawaiian-shirted companion did not. He looked back at the boathouse. The black fellow was at the helm, of course. The other one was probably surrounding himself with his electronics again. Shameful for a man to hide from the world that way, but who could fathom the minds of youth? Certainly not Happosai, it had been centuries since he'd been what anyone would call young.

The ship was navigating its way around the other traffic in the bay, heading in the general direction of a number of dockhouses. The old master relit his pipe. It would be good to get onto dry land. His energy was ebbing low; he needed to recharge with some female chi. He'd have to go hunting for silky darlings when they reached land.

----------------

Rock took one last puff on his cigarette, then flicked the butt into the sea as the _Lagoon_ pulled up to the dock. He'd exchanged nods with the old man they'd pulled out of the water. He'd talked a little with him on the radio, but he hadn't gotten much out of the old man, like, say, what had happened to whatever ship he'd been on. Dutch and Benny mostly just wanted to get him to shore and cut him loose. Rock understood where they were coming from – he was not so naive as to think they had a responsibility to save every poor soul they ran into – but Roanapur was not exactly a good place to leave some unsuspecting fellow.

He'd tried to warn the old fellow, but the man had simply laughed off his warnings. He seemed a bit of an earthy sort but he simply didn't understand what he was dealing with. Rock felt a little guilty about the situation, though as Dutch had pointed out they'd covered themselves by pulling him out of the water in the first place. If the man had any brains at all, he'd get his ass out of Roanapur shortly after they dropped him off. It was on his own head now.

Benny waved to him from the deck, tossed him one of the ship's lines. With practiced ease, he quickly secured the line to the dock and walked along the side to the ramp as Benny deployed it. "Welcome home."

"Glad to be here," replied the techie. "Where's Revy? We've got some stuff to unload."

"I had to wake her up. She said she'd be a minute. I didn't feel like pressing the matter."

"Ah. A sensible choice."

The low bass rumble of the torpedo boat's engines died out as Dutch shut things down. Rock boarded and waved at his boss, who gestured to the bow. Taking the hint, Rock walked to their guest.

He was a shrunken, shriveled old man, a fringe of thinning hair around the back of his head. Rock revised his estimate of the man's age up a few years; he looked downright ancient. "Greetings, Happosai-san," he said in Japanese.

"Oho! You must be young Rokuro. This looks like a charming little city."

Rock hesitated. 'Charming' was not a word he'd ever heard used to describe Roanpur. Not seriously, anyway. "Well, we've got you here on land, do you think you'll be okay?"

The old man chuckled. "Oh, I'll be fine. I may be old but I can still handle this kind of town, I'm sure I've seen rougher places than this in my day."

_Oh god... one of those 'back in my day we had everything worse than you whipper-snappers' people. He's going to get himself killed._ "Are you sure?"

The old man chuckled. "Oh, it's been so long since anyone felt such concern about me, sonny. Most people I know want me to go get myself killed. Feels good to have someone care." The little man stretched in a gesture that in a normally-sized person would probably have been a pat on the shoulder. From this diminutive fellow it was barely at calf height.

Rock tried to think of how to reply, when from the boathouse came the sound of a cranky Revy. "Hey Dutch! Do you know what time it is? Getting me up this early to haul shit for you."

If the black captain made any reply to his employee's snark, it was lost. Hearing Revy's voice, a strange and terrifying light entered Happosais' eyes. With a cry of "Sweeto!" the little man _launched_ himself from the _Lagoon_'s bow straight at Revy's breasts.

* * *

Akane hurt more than she'd expected and, a small, traitorous voice in the back of her head muttered, less than she deserved. Another, rather more rueful voice, mentioned to her that she _had_ specifically wanted Ranma to spar with her seriously for months. She'd gotten just that last night, and even though he'd been very much pulling every single blow – if not quite as much as he was pulling them against Nabiki – the ones that had landed had hurt.

The damnable thing was, he hadn't been going anywhere near all out. She'd seen him spar with Ryoga, she knew what he looked like when he was trying. While he hadn't been lazy against her, he certainly hadn't been pushing himself either. Much as she wanted to be infuriated with him for it, she knew why he'd been doing it. Ranma going all out was so good she wouldn't have learned anything – he'd have simply beaten her too quickly. The thought was not a pleasant one. At least she'd managed a few hits on him.

It was a small comfort that he'd been holding back far more against Nabiki. Seeing his example, she'd done the same when her own turn against her older sister had come up. She'd been a little annoyed at Nabiki's hesitance to spar with her – had she ever given her sister reason to doubt her control? But once they'd gotten started it had gone well. If Nabiki's skills had been rusty when she'd started training again, a week working with Ranma had blown that rust right off. Akane hadn't been pushing her skills at first, and her older sister had gotten a few lucky hits. That had woken her up right quick – Akane had picked up her game, then, at Ranma's quiet suggestion, had dropped it back down to the point where the spar was useful for Nabiki as well.

Still, when she'd said she wanted to train since she liked being the strongest Tendo daughter, she'd intended it as a joke. Something to break up the tension of the moment. She wasn't entirely sure, anymore, if she shouldn't be more worried about that possibility. Nabiki wasn't nearly as good as Akane herself, but she was better than the youngest Tendo remembered. A fair bit better.

_Still, _ a damnably reasonable mental voice said, _It's a good sign. If she's improving under Ranma's tutelage, I probably will too._ The house shook as one of the Saotomes, enjoying their morning ritual, bounced off of it. It actually sounded like Ranma this time, which was something Akane hadn't heard in a while.

She'd been letting her sore muscles keep her from getting up, but she knew she should be in the Dojo waiting when Ranma finished with his father. It wouldn't do to make a bad impression on her second day of lessons. She bounded down the stairs as the house shook again – this time it was definitely Genma; the older martial artist's yelp was distinctive – and gratefully accepted the cup of tea Kasumi held out to her as she passed the kitchen. "Thank you, Kasumi, I think I need this right now."

The eldest Tendo daughter smiled. "I'm glad to help you and Nabiki in this however I can." A pause, then, "You know, it means a great deal to Father to see you doing this."

Akane stifled a groan. "Don't tell me he thinks I'm doing this to get closer to the baka."

"That might be part of it, but mostly? He's grateful to see you training again, even if it's not under his tutelage."

Akane took a long, thoughtful sip at the tea. "That's... not worth nothing. I suppose I'm glad it makes him happy."

* * *

"This week officially sucks," said Ranma as she slouched on Setsuna's couch.

"Hear, hear," agreed Haruka.

Another Youma had attacked early. Ranma'd just barely finished breakfast when the alert sounded, and while it hadn't been all that tough against the four of them, it had been followed by another less than an hour later. That one's hide had been fairly tough, and pounding on it had torn all hell out of the leather gloves Ranma had bought to try to get around any draining-ki-when-you-touch-them type monsters. The leather had not reacted well to the soaking she'd gotten when an errant blast had clipped a hydrant, either. She idly reminded herself to pick up another pair- the first set were probably beyond saving.

"We need more help, I think," said Michiru, bringing in drinks.

"What, call in the TSAB? We're handling them, there's just a lot of them." Haruka's tone held hints of stung pride.

Setsuna said, "We're handling them now, but they keep coming, and frequently." She frowned. "Though I don't think we need to call our offworld allies just yet. We have local ones, after all, who can be of help if we don't try to chase them off." She shot a pointed look at Haruka.

The blonde ignored the look, said, "I suppose. Ranma, don't you have some martial artist friends who might be useful?"

The aquatransexual shrugged. "Sure I do, but they might not wanna help. We ain't exactly one big happy family down in Nerima. I'll ask around, though." A pause. "I ain't any fonder of callin' the boss for help."

* * *

It was another sunny day on Mid-Childa, and it promised to be interesting. Shario was along again, eager to observe more of what their upgraded talismans let them do, and to monitor the talismans themselves to make sure they were working properly. The pint-sized terror that was Vita was along as well, eager to inspire them to greater mastery of shielding spells.

This was not something that inspired hope in the Senshi.

On the upshot, they had gained a third instructor, a somewhat bookish looking man who'd introduced himself as Yuuno Scrya, apparently the keeper of the Infinite Library. Ami had met him the night before, she said, and it was he who had supplied them with the means to convince their talismans to talk to them like they themselves were people, not servants. It hadn't quite worked yet, but they'd only had the courtesy guide for less than a day.

Nanoha was driving them to the practice area. _The road,_ Minako thought, _just seems to get prettier._ This felt like the beginning of a good day, even if she would have to try and deal with Vita and her hammer again. Supposedly, this Yuuno would be helping them improve their defenses. Later in the day, they'd be working on offense again.

In her own way, Nanoha was even more terrifying in action than Vita, even when she was demonstrating on hapless dummies rather than testing their rudimentary defenses. The raw power she threw around with minimal apparent effort was kind of frightening. And her talisman – _No, _ she corrected herself, _the TSAB call their own 'Intelligent Devices.' _seemed more eager for destruction than Vita's. Which was saying something.

Worryingly, Nanoha didn't seem concerned about that. Presumably, she and Raising Heart had an understanding. That didn't make it any more comforting to hear the thing suggest additional blasting with more power when one's defenses had barely held up to the previous volley.

Still, Nanoha had taught them a lot about their own offense, and the Senshi of Venus knew she'd improved under that instruction. She could hardly wait to get home an show the Outers what she'd learned, and she knew she wasn't alone. Oh, they wouldn't be jerks about it, but it would be more than a little satisfying to knock some of the smug out of them.

* * *

"You're already familiar with the basic Round Shield spell," began Yuuno as he walked to the center of the clearing, Vita a step behind him. "I'm going to show you a few variations on it with a little help from Vita and the Graf." He muttered a spell and a dome of pale green energy surrounded him. Voice sounding oddly tinny through the shield, he continued. "This Barrier is designed for all-directions protection. It's not quite as strong against any one angle as a more directed shield, but it's balanced, and quite useful if you need to move through a dangerous area quickly and can't spare the attention to watch all directions for threats."

As if to punctuate his statement, Vita wound up with Graf Eisen and let fly, the magical hammer flashing around in a blurring arc- only to stop dead when it hit the shield.

Yuuno continued as if he hadn't noticed the attack. "A barrier like this can have many uses. With minimal modification it can project healing energies at anyone within, or be made water- or air-tight." Vita had paused a moment to blink at her apparent utter lack of impact, then wound up again. The Iron Count flashed and the small, round hammerheads changed into massive, boxy ones. It was stopped cold by the green shield once more. "It's also possible to project one around something other than yourself. This makes Barriers quite versatile and useful in several contexts. For example, if you're doing Search and Rescue work and you spot a victim in a hard-to-reach place, you can project a Barrier around them and then move the Barrier up to where you are to get them to safety."

He dropped the Barrier and glanced at Vita. "Thank you for helping me demonstrate."

"I barely made a dent in your Barrier, it didn't used to be that good. When did you get this powerful, Ferret Boy?"

Yuuno grinned. "I have to do something on the boring days." He turned back to the Senshi. "Now then. Who wants to learn some new shield spells?"

* * *

Ranma needed a few moments to remember Ryoga's number. The Lost Boy had only recently acquired a cell phone, frequently finding himself stuck somewhere with no service as he wandered. Even since getting one, he seldom used it, preferring to deal with things in person, a trait Ranma shared. A phone was too... impersonal. Still, right now Ranma needed to talk with his friend and rival, and he was neither at his home nor his workplace. His boss had given him a few days off to deal with 'personal business.' Ranma figured training.

The phone rang twice, then a girl answered, "This is Ryoga's phone, Akari speaking."

"Hey, Akari. It's Ranma. Is Ryoga around? I need ta talk to him." _Probably shoulda guessed he'd be spending time with his girl._

"He's a little busy at the moment, and he said he didn't want to be disturbed. Could I take a message?"

"Uh, that works, I guess. Can you get him to call me? I could use his help on somethin.'" A pause. "What's he up to, anyway?"

"He's training with the sumo pigs." Akari's voice grew enthused, as usual when she discussed her beloved Yokozuna Pigs. "I've never seen him look so determined before."

"Huh. Cool. Anyway, if you could get him ta call me?"

"I will."

Ranma closed his phone, looked at it thoughtfully. What was Ryoga up to, he wondered? Ranma hadn't thought his rival enjoyed hanging around pigs, though given his choice in girlfriends it seemed kind of inevitable. Probably trying to work out a variant on the Shi Shi Hokodan that didn't run on depression.

* * *

Evangeline A. K. McDowell sipped at a cup of tea in her cottage. Summer break was so _boring._ Being confined to the grounds of the Mahora Academy was bad enough at the best of times, but at least while school was in session there were plenty of students around whose antics she could watch. But right now, most of the students were gone, and certainly the most entertaining ones. Her first pupil in ages among them, off to the Magical World in search of his father.

An irony that never failed to entertain her; her prize student was nominally her teacher in the school, and the son of her greatest enemy. That young Negi would one day find his father Nagi the vampiress considered inevitable. The young mage was too smart, too stubborn, and too gods-cursed lucky to fail. It would doubtless take some time, but eventually she would have to deal with that never-to-be-sufficiently-damned bastard Nagi Springfield again.

Still, this time she would be ready for his little trick. The Thousand Master would not defeat her a second time.

She paused, the tea just shy of her lips. Again, something brushing lightly against the wards around the Academy. She had made herself quite sensitive to those wards over the years, waiting for a chance – any chance – to get out. Alas, those who created them had known what they were doing. The wards had held steady all this time. But for the past week or so something had been probing at them. Gently, to be sure. The vampiress honestly wondered if anyone less attuned than herself to those wards would even notice.

She doubted whatever it was would force its way through those wards without her noticing. And if something did punch its way into her home, well, it would have a very bad day indeed.

Had any mortal seen her smile, then, they would have seen the predator that lurked behind a child's face and alabaster skin. Most sane men would have fled from it in fear.

* * *

Ranma Saotome entered the Neko Han Ten, still trying to decide just what he wanted to say. He still hadn't heard from Ryoga, and he figured he ought to at least make an effort to convince someone else. Mousse was the only other rival he had who both lived in the area and was tough enough to handle the demons. The suckers were tougher than he'd initially thought.

It was fairly busy in the cafe, and it actually took Shampoo a good thirty seconds to notice him through the crowd. "Arien! Why you here?"

"Hey Shampoo. I need ta talk ta Mousse, is he in?"

The Chinese Amazon blinked. "Why you need talk to him?"

"Need a hand with somethin'. Is he in?"

"He busy doing dishes."

"Thanks. I think I'll give him a hand." Ranma wandered into the back. Mousse was back there, surrounded by a heap of dishes. Ranma grabbed a towel and started drying. "Hey Mousse."

The other lad wiped off his glasses, gave Ranma an odd look. "What do you want, Saotome?"

"You've noticed the demons showing up lately?"

"None of them have taken a crack at us. Not our problem."

"Oh come on. Stompin' demons is great trainin.' 'S what I've been doing. An' this bunch have some real interestin' tricks."

"This your latest scheme to get me out of the way so you can steal Shampoo? Get me killed by demons? That's low, Saotome, even for you."

"Hey, far as I'm concerned, you can _have _Shampoo. Slayin' demons is old school heroics, though. Kinda thing a warrior lady like Shampoo might go for."

That brought Mousse up short for a moment. That kind of stuff might indeed gain him favor. Still... "What's your game Ranma? What are you trying to pull?"

"Not a thing, Mousse. I been trying ta take care of these demons, figure out how to train Nabs and Akane, and keep myself in trainin' at the same time. I don't got the time for all of this. I'm tryin' ta get help so I have time to get everything I need ta do _done. _I tried to get ahold of Ryoga but he's a hard man ta find."

Mousse chuckled. "So much for him shaking the 'Lost Boy' handle." A pause. "I'll think about it."

"Thanks, man. Gimmie a shout if you decide you want in." Ranma dried a final dish and headed out.

Shampoo had overheard his conversation. While his guess that demon hunting would win the stupid duck points with her wasn't totally inaccurate, what she found disturbing was his words about training. She'd known he was working with Mercenary Girl, and that hadn't terribly disturbed her. Because Nabiki Tendo simply did not have the spirit of a fighter. But Akane was a different story, and if the Pervert Girl was back in training, it could mean some severe difficulties for her quest to win her Arien's heart. Her superior prowess in the martial arts was her main advantage. She would have to make sure she kept it.

* * *

Chang looked around the room and suppressed the urge to sigh. He and his fellow crime bosses were having one of their regular, semi-friendly get-togethers. They met to discuss the business, policies, problems, arrangements. Talking directly helped get around any problems they might run into from the fact that their assorted minions, whatever their intentions, didn't know everything their bosses did or what they wanted. And frankly, none of them could really trust having real loyalty from their assorted minions.

Well, other than Balalaika. The upshot of their exploits in Afghanistan, though Chang suspected they didn't much care for the cost in lost friends they had accrued. Still, their cohesion and ruthlessness had made Hotel Moscow the most dangerous single faction in Roanpur's underworld.

Most of the other bosses hated her for it. Chang knew better. They didn't have any realistic way to remove Balalaika and her cronies, so they'd have to live with them. Chang had learned how to do that after his shootout with Balalaika. He'd been lucky, he'd survived the learning. The others might not be so lucky. It might help him in the short run, giving his merry branch of the Triad a chance to expand their market share, but inevitably their parent organizations would send someone new. He'd had enough trouble breaking in the current Oyabun to want to bother with that again. Though he seemed to have learned plenty from the fallout of his little deal with her, trying to curry favor with his bosses back in Tokyo.

Chang had all but given up on turning Verrocchio into a civilized gangster when the stupid bastard had gotten himself killed, and his replacement wasn't looking much better. Abrego was almost as bad.

At the moment, Dago was going on about the recent unrest in the local underworld. He was too smart to say anything directly about what he didn't like about things; he at least knew how to follow the forms of protocol, but he wasn't fooling anyone. It was almost like watch a car wreck in slow motion.

There was a small shuffle at the door. One of the yaks came in, looking more than a little nervous. As well he should, these meetings were private and not to be interrupted for anything less than the most grave of circumstances.

Dago ignored the intrusion, continuing his rant. Chang tuned the Italian out and listened as best he could to what the yak underling whispered to his boss. His Japanese wasn't all that good, but he followed some of it. Something was creating a disturbance at one of the Yak-run brothels, and the underling wanted to know what to do about it. He caught a name, "Happosai."

The name was oddly familiar to Chang, though he couldn't place it immediately. He knew he'd heard of this Happosai before, and from the way it itched his memory, what he'd heard hadn't been good. Before he could place it, there was a sound of shouting from the door, then gunfire. The bosses and their bodyguards all quickly drew their weapons, Chang standing slightly to one side with his paired pistols at the ready.

The door exploded inward, and for a moment nothing happened. The smoke cleared, revealing a small, shrunken old man puffing on a pipe and standing amid a heap of wounded or dead guards. Walking into the room, he said something in Japanese to the Oyabun, who paled, then stammered something in response, too hurried and voice too shaky for Chang to follow.

The old man shrugged and looked about the room, sizing up the gathered crime lords. Chang met his gaze and felt slightly stung by the dismissal in it. He wasn't the only one; Abrego and Dago were both making aggrieved noises, and if the two idiots opened up on the little bastard, well, he couldn't think of a reason to stop them.

Balalaika met the old man's gaze too, seemingly indifferent to his leer and brazen appraisal of her. In a voice as cold as Siberian winter, she asked, "Oyabun, who is this... worm?"

"He is, he is a martial arts master and a terrible legend among the Yakuza. His name is Happosai."

Martial arts master. That was it. Chang remembered a report of a nip named Happosia tearing through job lots of Triad assets in a mad crime spree almost twenty years back, tearing apart several dives, brothels, and front businesses. Could be this was the same guy, but given what he'd done to the guards Chang figured it was just someone using the name, the original would be too old, now, to inflict that kind of mayhem. Though that didn't explain the Yak's fear...

The old man, still looking Balalaika over, seemed to come to a decision. He said something in Japanese – Chang only caught the word for underwear – and then _ moved._ One moment he was a good thirty feet from the assembled crime lords and their guns, the next he was standing behind them, holding- a pair of lacy, red panties and a bra?

Balalaika made a sound of strangled fury. Her gun, which had been at her side in a safe position, snapped up and coughed twice. The range couldn't have been more than five yards, and Chang knew from personal experience how accurate she was with the thing, yet somehow the little bastard didn't get hit. It almost looked like he'd dodged the bullets, but that was flatly impossible.

Balalaika's fire opened the floodgates. Chang's Beretta and AMT added their fury to the pistols of Dago and Abrego; only the yaks did not fire, seeming paralyzed in fear. Normally, that wouldn't much matter.

This time, however, it seemed it did. The little bastard really _was _dodging bullets, because Chang knew damned well his shots had been on target. The diminutive panty thief cackled with maniac glee as they blasted away at him, bounding away without an apparent care in the world and back into the streets.

The gunfire faded as they realized he'd managed to survive their combined fury in this small room. After a long moment of silence, Balalaika spoke in a voice of ice-sharp fury. "Gentlemen, I fear we shall have to cut this meeting short. I have a manhunt to arrange."

* * *

"How's the survey looking?" Asked Mage-Captain Kars.

"It confirms our initial impression, mostly," began Mage-Lieutenant Fitzroy. "This world is magic-rich, but with few magic users. And from what we can see, those magic users have their own infrastructure apart from the mundanes, all concentrated in a few areas. One of the strongest is behind those wards we found in the primary target zone." He glanced at his notes. "The nation the local yokels call Japan." A pause. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually grateful for that pompous bitch of an informant. If she hadn't said there was a specific spot she could never summon her demons too, I'd never have spotted it. Whoever crafted those wards knew their stuff."

"Whatever you think of her, until we can find a way to control those demons ourselves, humor her. She wants to be called a queen, we call her a queen." A pause. "So no evidence of any real Magitech?"

"No, sir. A fair bit of magic, but none of it looks integrated. The biggest concentrations are here-" he pointed at a nation labeled Wales on his map - "Here-" he pointed to another called America, "And the big sucker here." He pointed to Japan. "The one in Wales looks like a World Knot linked to a pocket dimension- hefty stuff but nothing we can't neutralize. I can't get a really good look through the wards, but the one in the target zone appears to be a World Tree."

"Then it should definitely be one of our first ground objectives. She might be a pain to deal with, but our informant gave us good info here. Lots of industry, but none of it magic from what I can tell. It should be a cakewalk to take over with us in control of the high orbitals, and then we can turn it into a hell of a forward base and supply center." The Mage-Captain reached past Fitzroy to the report on his screen, scrolling through it. "The magic-users responding to our scout forces- have you positively identified them?"

"Four of them match up to our informant's data. The fifth- the shapeshifter- I've got an ID on from hacking into the yokel computer networks. They claim he's not a mage, but with how heavily separated magic and technology are in this world they're probably mislabeling him."

Kars smiled. "It looks like we have an estimate of their capabilities, too. Good. That should make dealing with them easier. And those demons will make excellent shock troops, should reduce the casualties our boys take. Any difficulties in gathering the data so far?"

"Not really, sir, though Enforcer Schwarze has been making noises about checking the local mages out firsthand."

Kars sighed. "I'll have to remind our resident loose cannon that 'it's easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission' hasn't applied to him for a few years now. You'd think he'd have grown out of his teenaged delusions of invulnerability."

"That you would, sir. And hopefully he'll listen to you. If I may say so, sir, this looks like a cakewalk, but I'd hate to tip our hand before the Fleet and the Marines get here."

"I agree. I'll go have a chat with Schwarze. You finish up here, and try to get some more information out of Beryl. Massage her ego if you have to, but get it. The bitch hasn't told us everything yet, and if something she doesn't tell us winds up biting us in the ass, the Mage-Admiral will have our hides."


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: As always I own none of the 'verses this wanders through and make no claim on other author's characters and settings. This is intended as entertainment and tribute._

_Author's note: My sincerest apologies for the delay in this posting, holiday stuff, work, minor illness, writer's block, and falling off the wagon with World of Warcrack have all conspired to mess with my intended update schedule. I'll be doing my best to get back on track from here on out._

-Chapter 8-

The soul of Queen Beryl sat suspended within an Infinity Circuit. She was conscious, aware, but unable to move. Trapped in a cage. But she was no longer trapped in the infinite nothingness of the abyss, no longer drifting among the dead.

That damnable upstart, the reincarnation of Princess Serenity, had killed her. But she had refused to let that be the end. Raw tenacity had kept her spirit from dissipating in the great beyond. She had endured and explored, seeking a way to escape that place and seek revenge. She had endured that vast loneliness for what had felt like centuries in that timeless place among the damned. She had sought any respite, any place free of the souls in whose midst she had found herself.

When a beacon appeared in that desolate land, she had lept at it, and found herself in another prison. But what a prison. The Infinity Circuit was a device of the Dimensional Republic of Bradeson, and they were looking for worlds to conquer. She nominated Earth, because there she could find her enemy; either on the world itself or in orbit. She spun tales of the power there, the old empire she had sought to conquer at the behest of her mistress, the pitiful mortals that had risen after.

The DRB had investigated and found it to their liking. Through them, she would have revenge on her killer – striking back literally from beyond the grave. Though Serenity was not present, several of her friends were and Beryl could strike a cruel blow indeed by killing them.

Even better than this, on a basic level, was the fact that she once again had company. No longer trapped among the wails and moans of the dead and damned, she was among people. Oh, for the most part they were not terribly interested in her, but some of them were. After what had felt like so very long in the darkness, _any_ attention was worth gold and diamonds. But she was not so foolish as to divulge everything, or to be too open. If they thought she still had secrets, they would keep her around. They would have to, or risk not knowing something crucial. So she gave them half truths and implications and kept them dangling like fish on the hook.

She wanted them to keep her around, partially because she wanted to be there when the Moon Kingdom saw its final defeat, partially to assuage her own curiosity. And mostly, because being trapped in a gilded cage was vastly preferable to drowning in the abyss again.

Especially when the cage itself was so fascinating. Magic suffused everything in this ship, yet it was not all, not even mostly, magic as she knew and practiced it. It was tied in with everything around it, and while there were some rather clever wards built in to keep her from doing anything other than look, well, she was a master sorceress, and at the moment she had nothing but time.

-------------------

"This feels really weird."

"Akane, you do this without thinkin' about it when yer mad. I'm just tryin' ta show you how ta do it for real."

"It still feels weird."

Ranma stifled a groan. "Just keep doin' air punches an' concentrate on the flow a' ki."

Nabiki smiled herself, but kept quiet as she ran through a kata at the other end of the dojo. She was practicing the very technique her sister was being taught, pushing her ki into her movements and making them faster. She wasn't quite sure how much faster than normal she was going – being the one doing the moving made it hard to judge and she hadn't gotten around to putting a camera in here – but she knew it was noticeable.

And she found something surprising: she was genuinely enjoying this training. Oh, it was a lot of work, tiring, and she'd gotten hurt a few times sparring... but she was having fun. She was working towards a goal, and even though she wasn't sure how long it would take to accomplish that goal she could tell that she was making progress.

It was a challenge – something she'd not had for a while. School was easy, her information network had long since become a well-oiled machine requiring little effort to keep running, and so did her various moneymaking schemes. She'd fallen into a happy, well worn rut. One that was profitable and comfortable, but not a challenge. It was remarkably fun to lay into a challenge again, keeping her on her toes and pushing to – she had to snort a bit, for this was so very cliché – better herself.

"Like that – you're doin' it right now, Akane."

Nabiki glanced at her sister and for a moment felt a stab of raw jealousy. Akane was indeed 'doing it,' fists moving in a blur. Her expression was a mask of concentration that quickly gave way to realization, then joy, as she realized that she really was reaching amazing speeds with her ki-boosted moves. Faster, Nab's practiced eye noticed, than she herself was doing.

Akane shifted from punching the air into first some kicks – applying the same speed enhancement – and then into a kata. Ranma was right beside her, matching her move for move with ease, keeping up a steady stream of instruction and advice as they moved like a martial arts video in fast forward. Akane laughed in simple glee as she shifted into a second, more complex kata.

_This won't do,_ thought the middle Tendo sister, and she pushed herself harder, drawing as much ki as she could muster and falling in beside Ranma. For perhaps half a minute, the three moved in sync, flowing through the kata like a stylized dance. They completed one kata, then flowed into another.

Ranma, perhaps sensing his older student's flagging energy, called a halt as they finished the second high-speed kata. "Nicely done – both of ya. You okay, Nabs?"

Feeling both drained an exhilarated, Nabiki concentrated on not swaying and replied, "I'll be fine in a minute. I guess I don't have the endurance for that yet."

"Hey, it's like anythin' else – takes practice. Another couple weeks and you'll be able to keep pace easy for stuff like this."

Akane gave her sister a look of concern. "Are you sure you're okay? What we were doing... it was, well, the kind of stuff that the crazies do." As if to punctuate, she cocked a thumb towards Ranma.

"I feel like I've just run a marathon. Tired and excited." Her expression turned to a grin. "I'm the normal one, and I was keeping up with you two. Not for long, but I was doing it."

Ranma grinned. "See why I like to keep improvin?' Feels nice ta know yer doin' stuff you couldn't do before."

Akane smiled as well. "Yeah. Yeah, it does. I know what I'll be practicing all afternoon."

"Gonna give me a run for my money tonight, are ya, 'Kane?" Ranma's grin could best be described as feral.

"Absolutely." Akane's own matched.

"Great! But for now, I think I smell breakfast. Let's get in there 'fore the panda eats it all."

* * *

Someone other than Ryoga would likely find the sight of a large pig holding a man's wrist in its hooves very strange. The fanged boy knew from experience just how dextrous the things could be, however.

The sumo pig was, when up on its back legs, taller than he was, and this one was using its height and weight to its advantage, pushing Ryoga back. Ryoga shifted his own grip and stance, trying to counter it. He tried to gather ki, to enhance his strength and speed to retake the advantage. Sheer determination filled him, but from it he could find barely the slightest wisp of power.

Akari was cheering from the edge of the pen. Ryoga wasn't sure if it was for him or the pig. He didn't much care. _I will master this. I will harness this._ He dug in his feet, stopping his slide backwards, glared up into the pig's eyes. _You won't beat me. This won't beat me. _He concentrated, teeth gritted.

He was trying to work out a way to generate useful ki by channeling his determination, rather than depression. He knew it should be possible; it was essentially what Ranma had done when he modified the Shi Shi Hokodan into his Moko Takabisha. Ryoga was going to play to his strengths – he didn't have Ranma's industrial strength ego, but he _did_ have a considerable measure of raw will. He was nowhere near giving up. Nor was he willing to give up the good changes in his life for enough depression to simply return to his old tactics.

He tried to shift his footing, to push the massive sumo pig back. For a few moments it looked like he was managing it, but then the pig dug in and started to push him to the edge of the ring. He felt his feet push past the edge. _Damnation._ Ryoga and the pig took a step back from each other and exchanged bows.

His inner litany of profanity was broken for a moment as Akari rushed to his side and enveloped him in a hug. "Oh, Ryoga! That was a close one. It's so nice to see you warming to the pigs."

"Yeah," he said absently. "I got something else I'd like to work on, but I'll give this another go in a bit."

"Okay," she said, and moved behind him, magic hands kneading at his sore shoulders. "Your training is important too! Just don't be too long." She gave the back of his neck a kiss with _promise_ in it.

The fanged boy smiled. "I won't." _Nope, not giving this up for anything. As much as beating Ranma, keeping this is important._

With that thought he left the pig yards and found a quiet spot in the ranch's fields. It was a decent thinking spot, nice and quiet. He settled down cross-legged, began to meditate. He'd spent a lot of time doing this over the last few days, ever since he'd realized that the Shi Shi Hokodan wasn't working properly. Even if Ranma hadn't explained it, he'd have grasped the problem shortly anyway, and now that he knew, he was determined to find a solution.

Ranma had managed the same thing in almost no time back when he'd first learned the technique. Ryoga would find a way.

But it was taking _too long_. He didn't want to run into Ranma again until he'd worked this out, but it just wasn't coming together. So he was here, alternating between meditating to try and come up with a technique and testing it out on the damned pigs. It was painfully frustrating, but he knew, he could feel, that he was going to find some kind of breakthrough. It was just taking longer than he'd wanted it to.

He hated it. He knew why Ranma wanted to talk to him – any idiot could check the news and see that there was a rash of demon attacks – but he couldn't face his rival until he had a solution. That was how they'd done it in the old days. He wanted to purge the failure of his prize technique with a new, fresh success.

Coming out to Akari's farm had seemed like a good idea. Reasonably private, a supportive girlfriend nearby, and large animals he didn't like much to fight with to test his attempts at channeling his determination.

He'd never been terribly fond of pigs, even before Jusenkyo. He'd enjoyed what they could be made into, ham and bacon, and the like, but the animals themselves? Indifference. He loathed them now and felt no compunctions to fighting against them. Akari even thought he was helping their sumo training, and he supposed on one level he was. That was worth something, he figured. He hoped, God above he hoped, that he'd be able to get this working in time to help.

-------------------

It was a happy evening on Mid-Childa for the inner Senshi. They were learning quickly – in their previous lives they'd been master mages, and some of that skill was awakening again under the tutelage of Nanoha Takamachi. They were proving to be apt pupils because of it. It had also awakened some interesting dreams, snippets of those past lives. Nothing concrete or of major importance(they thought) but still interesting.

The entire training group had decided to take a night off. Even study-aholic Ami was feeling the need for a little relaxing capitalism. The capital city of the TSAB was a busy place at all hours and her merchants knew it. The malls and most of the restaurants stayed open all night, eager for shoppers and patrons. The girls considered this a sign of a sophisticated and well adjusted society.

It was a mix of window shopping and the real thing, more window than shopping than the girls liked, but they only had so much to go around on their training stipend. The girls just took that as a challenge, deal-hunting instincts alert for sales. Fortune had smiled as well: Rei spotted a store in the second mall they trawled that specialized in curios, and its owner had bought some of their yen for a fair sum. Like most good deals, both parties had thought themselves the more favored in the exchange.

The five teens were between stores, looking for something to catch their eyes. Usagi and Minako were probably most laden, mostly with clothes, and Rei the least. The shrine maiden was leafing through her last purchase, the local equivalent of a study Bible, and found its contents fascinating. She'd always found comparative religion an interesting subject. Ami and Mako had both found books that interested them – history and a cookbook, respectively – and were doing the same. They were happy and relaxed, and getting ready to pick a restaurant for dinner when a familiar voice interrupted them.

"Hey Usagi! It's been a while!"

The Senshi turned, and spotted their caller, Subaru Nakajima. The purple-haired magical girl had a few bags of her own, and was walking with Teana Lanster. "Subaru! Teana! It has! How are you?"

"We're doing good! Tea's just got back from an assignment, and I've been working with the planetary S&R. We figured on taking a night for ourselves, an' Tea wanted to go shopping."

The orange-haired girl smiled and gave a sweeping gesture that seemed to encompass the entire mall. "I've been out in the back of beyond for three weeks. I want to immerse myself in civilization before they send me off again. I guess you're here for the training the Admiral set up?"

"Yeah. It's really neat, we're working with Instructor Takamachi. She's really good."

"They put you in Nanoha's class?" Teana shook her head and chuckled. "You have my sympathies."

Subaru grinned hugely. "We both studied under her. You're looking fairly healthy for being at the White Devil's tender mercies." She nudged Teana playfully. "Though she's not that rough unless you're being a bad student." Teana shot her a look.

Minako giggled. "We heard rumors. We've been good."

Rei nodded. "More or less, anyway. It's her assistant that scares me. That hammer-wielding loligoth is crazy."

Subaru looked distant for a moment. "Defense training with Vita? Those were good times."

The Inners collectively goggled at her. After a moment, Usagi turned to Teana. "She's insane, isn't she?"

"Totally insane. But we keep her around anyway." Teana smiled. "We were just heading for some dinner. Care to join us?"

* * *

_Three of the damned things at once. Kamis, how do the Chinese put it? May you live in interesting times?_

Ranma bounded over a bolt of green energy, wincing as it exploded someone's cart behind him. "Man, your aim sucks."

The Youma shrieked like a banshee and sent another blast towards the martial artist. Ranma dodged it easily. This one had popped up fairly close to Nerima, another near Juuban, and the third down by the docks. Ranma was going to hold this one's attention while the Outers dealt with the others. If he could take it out himself, all to the good, but if nothing else he could keep it busy.

On that note, he charged the thing. It was blasting away with both hands, and hadn't tried to drain his ki yet. He slid under a swipe of a claw and landed a bunch of quick kicks and punches on the thing's leg, sending it toppling for a moment. Ranma smiled. No tell-tale feeling of draining. Good. That left him something to work with, and he wouldn't need the gloves. It probably said something that his hands were tougher than heavy leather.

The monster tried to rise, and Ranma stomped it back down again. This he could handle. He'd have to work fast to drop it before one of the Senshi showed up to give him backup, but he figured it was doable.

He wondered how Pluto was doing with the one she was holding down.

* * *

Setsuna Meioh was having a bad day.

Bad enough that she _still _couldn't figure out why the Time Gates were refusing to show her more than the most fleeting of glimpses of possible future attacks. Her own frustration over that was painful enough without the others subtly harassing her about it. She would figure it out when she figured it out, and not before. And unless they had some concrete suggestions, they should leave her alone. Or else.

Worse, something in the current situation seemed to disturb Chibi-Usa. The Small Lady wasn't talking to her, or any of the others, and more and more seemed frightened by something. This was not a good sign. Even worse, whatever bad thing she seemed to suspect was coming, she was unable or unwilling to tell them about it. That was somewhat disturbing. Not two months ago she'd seemed quite enthused and happy about the future.

The Senshi of Time suspected that something had changed in that future, and she didn't like that. As a general rule she like to be able to plan ahead.

A clawed hand crashed against her Garnet Ball spell, bringing her out of her ruminations for a moment. Oh yes, the youma. She sighed. She had more important things to deal with, and yet these blasted attacks...

"_Dead Scream."_ The blast of power lanced out, the Youma reared back. It was tougher than most, and she hoped that the other Outer Senshi would hurry along. Haruka, Michiru, and Hotaru were dealing with the third of the attacking monsters at the moment, then they'd come and help her, then they'd all go and deal with the one they'd sicc'd Ranma on. The simple fact that they had Hotaru out helping with attacks was... unnerving. The Senshi of Ruin and Rebirth was not one they called upon lightly; her powers had a certain... finality to them. Setsuna knew that she would be cautious, but for all she liked the young girl, she didn't like depending on her abilities.

There wasn't much else they could do. They didn't have much in the way of allies to call upon. Mamoru had offered to help out if needed the night the Inners left, but his offer had been spurned. Setsuna had been less than thrilled, but at the time it didn't seem necessary to do anything about it. She'd get Haruka to apologize later. Other than that, they had Saotome, of course, and any other martial artists he could convince to help. She hoped he'd have sufficient judgment to only call on fighters who were tough enough to not be a liability.

Other than that, they didn't have any options that appealed. Oh, they could always put in a call to the TSAB, but pride stung: neither the Outers nor their martial artist ally wanted to admit that they couldn't handle things. Earthside, there were a few organizations they could contact, but none appealed: Hellsing was likely to send that damnable vampire of theirs, and the American Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense would send their pet demon. Best agent indeed. Setsuna did not think it likely that inviting more abominations into Japan would improve the situation, however much the Americans liked to wax rhapsodical about how fine an agent this 'Hellboy' was.

None of the others had anything powerful enough to make a difference. She was not so callous as to bring in extra bodies as cannon fodder.

An errant blast tore a chunk out of the pavement. Stupid Youma, she really didn't have time for all this. She dodged a follow-up shot and replied with a blast of her own. The others would surely be along soon, assuming she couldn't finish the blasted thing off in the mean time. _I should probably concentrate on fighting the stupid thing,_ she thought, shaking off her distraction.

As if sensing that distraction, the Youma took off at a run. Setsuna pursued, and both combatants took shots at one another as they ran along, generally causing more property damage than anything else. The Youma seemed to be trying to close with unwary civilians, but the Senshi of Time was able to keep it away from them. _No, no snacks for you today, creature._

For a few minutes, the thing tried to elude her. It did not succeed. It's attempts to discourage her by randomly blasting her didn't do much better; without a wind-up, nothing it could throw could push a Garnet Ball's defensive limits. She'd not thrown much of her own in reply; it was moving through the crowded streets too randomly to ensure a hit, and Setsuna had absolutely no desire to see what her Dead Scream would do to a random civilian, limiting her return fire to moments when the thing had clear street around it.

Finally, it darted down an alley. Setsuna smiled as she rounded the corner on its heels, shot it in the back. The magic blast threw the thing forward, into the street beyond. It was trying to scramble to its feet when a small avalanche of energy blasts landed on it. Setsuna walked through the alley and nodded to the Outers. Along with Ranma, they were admiring their handiwork.

"Thank you. Though I must ask, what took you so long?"

Michiru replied, "Ours was tougher than expected, and then Ranma's was closer."

"I see. Well, hopefully that will be all for the day."

* * *

"Load heavy for this bastard. He's damned fast, so you and the boys on guard for our stuff, head down to the armory and pick up some shotguns. He might be able to dodge bullets, but I doubt he can dodge buckshot."

Chang paced the floor of his office, paused in front of one of the underbosses. "Xian, pick some of your best shots and meet me in the foyer in twenty. We'll head down to Hotel Moscow and lend Balalaika a hand hunting this bastard down."

"I assume we're breaking out the good toys for this hunt?"

"Absolutely. Assault rifles and the like. The Russians aren't the only ones on this island with heavy hardware." Chang walked back to his desk, looked his minions over. "Okay, any questions?"

"Why are we sticking out necks out, boss? So the little bastard embarrassed Fry-Face. What's it to us?"

Chang gave the underboss a look. "First, because this joker has gone after Triad assets in the past, and we owe it to him for that. Second, because the reason this city runs so smooth is the bunch of us working together. And finally, it wasn't just Balalaika he embarrassed. He waltzed into one of our meetings and acted like _none_ of us were shit. That kind of thing we cannot tolerate. He surprised us and got lucky. His luck is about to run out."

* * *

Elsewhere in the city, Happosai sneezed.

_Someone's thinking of me,_ he thought with a chuckle. Concealed as he was in some stranger's attic, he took his bundle of silky darlings off his back and placed it on the floor, began to sort. They were poor compared to those he normally stole, but then again, one must make allowances for a poor area. Happosai was a magnanimous man. He would not judge these poor people by their means.

He'd decided to take a bit of a break from his thievery, at least until the morning. That should give the Yakuza, who gave him the proper respect and deference, enough time to sort things out with their underlings in the other gangs. He'd perhaps been too eager to meet the leaders of those subordinate gangs, their reaction had been as sad and disrespectful as he was used to getting anywhere these days.

That the Yakuza controlled the other criminal organizations in the city the old master never questioned in his mind. They were, after all, the Yakuza – any other criminal group would only operate in their areas with their consent. They'd chosen their underlings well, too. That Chinese fellow with the twin pistols had nearly hit him with some of those shots.

Yes, he'd give them a day to get their minions in line. Then he'd enjoy himself for a while in this quaint little town before heading back to Tokyo. He had a few students to straighten out.

* * *

Nabiki kept half an eye on Ranma and Akane as the two of them sparred at the far side of the dojo. She'd spent a fair bit of time that day working on her own ability to increase the speed and power of her blows, but even the most casual of observation told her she hadn't made anywhere near as much headway as her little sister. Ranma wasn't pushing himself to keep up, but Akane was moving with impressive speed and power.

Part of her was happy for her sister, who was quite clearly enjoying the hell out of the proceedings. Part of her saw how much _faster_ she was learning and felt nothing but unreasoning, jealous hatred. A much smaller part was trying to figure out ways to turn this to her financial advantage.

That only a small part of her mind was thus occupied surprised her, really. She hadn't mitigated her money-grubbing ways for anyone but Kasumi in years, and even then only slightly. But she was enjoying herself in this little venture. Oh, to be sure she'd find a way or two to take financial advantage of Akane's newfound prowess(as well as her own) but for the moment it was enough to simply practice and enjoy herself.

_Besides,_ she thought with a smirk. _My inner pragmatist has come up with a few gems already. Putting them into profit-generating practice won't be too hard..._

She returned her attention to her kata. Her turn was coming. The two martial artists were still engrossed in their sparring match, Ranma offering occasional comments and tips but mostly them bantering with Akane as they sparred. The calculating part of her that enjoyed matchmaking rather liked seeing this.

Eventually, Ranma called an end to his and Akane's sparring match. Glancing over, Nabiki saw that Akane was starting to breath heavily, she looked tired. Ranma said, "'Kay, Akane, take a break. Nabs, you're up."

"What, you're going to exhaust me before throwing me to her?"

"Nah, just making sure yer warmed up while 'Kane gets her breath back."

They moved into a spar of their own, back and forth across one end of the dojo. For a few minutes they sparred, Ranma scoring a few hits, Nabiki only one, and she was fairly sure she only got that one because Ranma wanted her to. It made her feel better anyway, even knowing that there was calculation behind it. It was impressively thoughtful, really. All his life he had trained with people who used the stick. Instead of doing the same he was trying the carrot. It helped keep herself motivated, and it seemed to get around Akane's temper fairly well.

For a moment, Nabiki wondered what, if anything, he _couldn't _do if he put his mind to it. It was a very short list, and she somehow doubted she'd manage to make it all that much longer with further thought.

Ranma called the halt. "Okay, Nabs, you seem ta be warmed up. 'Kane, you ready to go?"

"I'm fine." She straightened up from the stretches she'd been doing, muttered something that Nabiki didn't catch.

Ranma caught it. "Two reasons. First, 'cause your sister needs practice too. Second, 'cause you still gotta work on your control. Power ain't enough."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Is sparring with your big sister really that boring, Akane?"

The youngest Tendo girl visibly fought her temper for a moment, then said, "Let's just do this."

They started into a spar, Ranma observing and calling out advice and instructions as they did. Nabiki kept her ki flowing at a low trickle, enough to improve her speed but not tire herself out quickly. Ranma could ramble on about control all he wanted, for herself she'd settle on getting a little more power. If nothing else, she'd need it to fly.

At the start, Akane matched her speed. The younger girl, more skilled in the martial arts, tagged her sister a few times, though Nabiki managed to get her back as well. After a few minutes, Akane's speed began to increase. For another minute or so, Nabiki managed to keep up, but she realized with unease that she'd hit her limit, and that there was no sign that Akane had.

Concentrating, she shifted to a more defensive posture, concentrating on blocking or avoiding her sister's attacks as much as possible. She blocked a strike, and it rung up her arm. Akane was putting greater power into her blows as well, and didn't seem to realize it. Nor did she notice that Nabiki wasn't trying to return her banter, saving her breath to continue.

Ranma, however, did notice. "Uh, Akane... you might wanna slow it down a little."

Akane didn't even look over, began to push her sister back. "I'm perfectly in control, Ranma."

"So you're speeding up on purpose?"

A hint of irritation. "I'm matching her speed like you said to."

"No you're not, Akane, yer' racin' ahead."

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she did Nabiki finally missed a block. One of Akane's blows caught her full in the chest, and the middle Tendo sister found herself flying halfway across the Dojo with a yelp. The pain hadn't hit yet, and it was with a strange detachment that she realized it would be made worse by her impending impact with a wall.

A red blur – and then she was in Ranma's arms. He lowered her gently to the floor. "Akane, go get Kasumi." One hand started probing Nabiki's ribs, feeling gently for a break. After a moment he glanced back. "Akane! Now!"

Nabiki was feeling the pain now, blinked away tears as she looked. Akane stood frozen in the middle of the Dojo, fist still at full extension. On her face was an expression of dawning horror as she slowly realized what she'd done.

Apparently hearing the commotion, Kasumi chose that moment to enter the Dojo. "Oh, my!" she said, then quickly rushed to Nabiki's side. Ranma gave her room, then looked away as she removed Nabiki's shirt, examining the impact. Gently her fingers probed along Nabiki's ribcage, drawing out a yelp of pain as she did. "What happened?"

"Trainin' accident. 'Kane hit her one way too hard. I shoulda stepped in, before..."

Though not a doctor herself, Kasumi knew a great deal about first aid. "I'm not sure, but I think at least one of her ribs are broken. I think it would be best to get Dr. Tofu."

"I'll go get him, bring him here." Ranma said, standing and making for the exit. Their fathers were there, Genma fixing his son with an expression of disgust, Soun in tears. Ranma ignored both, shouldered his way between them. That opened the proverbial floodgates, Soun crying and shouting at Ranma for getting his little girls hurt, Genma simply condemning his teaching as poor and undisciplined. If Ranma made any replies, Nabiki couldn't hear them over the tumult.

"You'll be fine, Nabiki," said Kasumi, "The doctor is on the way."

The mercenary youth managed to find the breath to say, "Hurts... like hell..."

"I know." Kasumi turned to Akane. "Akane, please, bring me some cushions and a damp cloth."

Where Ranma's panic and anger had failed to get through, Kasumi's eternal calm did. Akane shook herself, bolted from the room. She was back in moments; they made the middle Tendo sister more comfortable and Kasumi began mopping at her brow. "What happened, Akane?"

"I... I don't know." The youngest Tendo girl seemed on the edge of tears. "We were sparring, and she was blocking me and... I didn't mean to hurt her!"

"Know... that..." managed Nabiki. "Careless."

Akane seemed about to reply, then broke down into tears and fled the Dojo again.

Ranma's shout came from towards the front door. "I got the Doc!"

Dr. Tofu was half a step behind Ranma when he reached the Dojo, but he reached Nabiki's side first, already opening his kit and examining the rapidly-darkening bruise on her chest. Ranma and Genma were close behind, growling and muttering at each other in angry tones. Without looking up, Tofu said, "Either be quiet or leave the room. I don't care which." Almost too low to hear, he muttered, "Hard enough concentrating this close to Kasumi." The Saotomes exchanged a glance, then left the room. Moments later the sounds of a shouted argument could be heard from the back yard.

Tofu quickly confirmed Kasumi's diagnosis. "You have one, perhaps two broken ribs. I'd like to get you down to the hospital for some X-rays." He gave her some painkillers, and frowned. "I assume this is Ranma's fault from the way his father is acting."

Nabiki tried to concentrate on anything that wasn't pain. "Not really... Akane and I were sparring..."

"Akane's vastly stronger than you! What were you...!" He paused and took a breath. "You're both training under Ranma?"

"Yes..."

"I take it she made a mistake?"

"Something... like that."

The doctor pulled out his cell phone, dialed the hospital. "We'll get you taken care of, Nabiki. Don't you worry."

------------------

"You're kidding. _All _of you can fly? Already?"

"Well, yes."

Teana shook her head, speared a meatball with a little more enthusiasm than normal. "Well. Bully for you, I guess. It must be nice, being seriously powerful." She shook her head. "What is it with Japan, anyway? You five, Captain Takamachi, Colonel Yagami... It must be something in the water..."

Subaru nudged her. "You're no slouch yourself, Tia."

The orange haired girl gave a non-committal grunt as she chewed.

"Well," began Usagi, "We kinda have an unfair advantage there..." The Inner Senshi exchanged a quick collective glance, then she continued. "We're kind of reincarnated. We were all powerful mages in a past life."

Teana raised a single, disbelieving eyebrow.

"She's serious," said Minako. "Something about this place, or maybe the training itself, is waking some more memories of it. It's helped with the training."

Subaru leaned forward. "Memories of a past life? Anything interesting? Boyfriends, girlfriends, kids?"

"Well, Usagi had her prince..."

Teana shook her head. "So you have an unfair advantage. Guh."

Subaru nudged her again. "That's kind of the story of her life. Every mage she works with has some kinda edge. She manages anyway."

"Somehow. Raw stubborn tenacity, probably."

"You know, I can absolutely see that," said Makoto, chuckling. "We've suffered from similar conditions."

The group ate in silence for a moment. Teana broke it. "So. Past life memories. I agree with Subaru; anything interesting?"

Rei shrugged. "Not terribly. Faces, a few places. I remember meeting the others, and one of our trainers. She was kinda like Vita, except, y'know, not short."

Minako frowned in concentration. "Brown hair, always up in a bun?"

"You remember her too? Huh."

Usagi nodded slowly. "What was her name? I can't quite place it..."

"Me either..." All five of the Inner Senshi frowned in collective concentration.

Teana and Subaru exchanged a glance, then giggled. The Inners started, tried to relax. "Sorry," said Ami, "We kind of got caught up in our own thing."

"'Sallright," said Teana. "It sounds like you've got some interesting stuff going on." There was a momentary lull in the conversation, then Teana decided to fill it. "So, other than the fact that you're rocketing ahead, how do you like the training?"

"It's neat," began Usagi, "I mean, I'm not normally one for school stuff-" Rei snorted, and Usagi plowed on, ignoring her - "But this is really cool. I kinda like learning how some of this magic works, and it's kinda fun to fiddle with."

"And when we get home, we're going to utterly shock the Outers," said Minako with a smirk.

"We'll have to come up with some kind of excuse for a mock battle or something," added Rei. A chorus of agreement and laughter rose from the others.

After it died down, Ami asked, "But more seriously, it really is a lot of fun, and Miss Takamachi is an excellent teacher. Very friendly and patient."

"As long as she thinks you're paying attention, anyway," said Teana with a bit of a rueful smile. "Trust me. Pay attention. It's not worth the aggravation to do otherwise."

"To say nothing of the hospital stay," quipped Subaru. Teana swatted her. "Nanoha's really awesome, and so's Fate and their daughter Vivio."

Teana chuckled. "Now there's a kid who's going to grow up to be either a saint or an unholy terror. Look at her mothers."

The Inners collectively blinked, not parsing that last. Ami was the first to find her voice. "Wait, mother_s_? Plural?"

"Yeah, Nanoha and Fate Testerossa."

Makoto's gaze unfocused as she thought back. "Tall, blonde, black and gold weapon?"

"That's her."

"But they're both women.. how do they have a kid?"

Subaru giggled. "It's not that unusual." She elbowed Teana gently. "Even if some of the old-fashioned types think it's not proper." The orange haired magical girl blushed crimson.

The Inners madly parsed the information, each from their own perspective. Rei, being of a more traditionally religious bent than the others, was having trouble getting past a society that seemed more or less fine with same-sex couples, an idea that discomforted her. She mostly ignored it when dealing with the Outers, because it was less trouble than trying to think about it. Makoto and Ami were thinking of it more intellectually, Makoto weighing the pros and cons of a society treating all couples equally and the idea's innate fairness. Ami was pondering how literally the two had meant Nanoha and Fate both being mothers to this child. Earth medical science had a few theoretical ways to accomplish such a feat, and she was curious if the TSAB's method was similar to any of them. Usagi and Minako, for their part...

Usagi and Minako counted among the assorted paraphernalia of their Senshi forms, transformation charms. Both had used said charms several times to assume different forms and disguises. Usagi had never really tried to see what, if any, limits her Disguise Pen had, and while she'd never really devoted any serious brainsweat to the question she'd wondered a few times. Minako, on the other hand, had a broader idea of what her Crescent Compact's transformation abilities were, and they were not limited to a female form. All the Senshi had inquired after Vita's nickname for Yuuno, and knew that shapeshifting magic was not terribly uncommon in the TSAB. Both tried rather hard to quash strange and unruly thoughts.

Ami broke the silence. "So, the TSAB recognizes same-sex couples?"

Subaru nodded. "Officially, though unofficially it's kind of frowned on. Polite society and all that."

"And there's nothing unusual about two women with a child?"

"Nope. I think Nanoha burned a few favors, but mostly to push the adoption paperwork through quickly."

Teana added, "Vivio was in a sort of awkward place, and Nanoha didn't want her to get stuck in the system."

Usagi grabbed at this latest bit of information like a drowning woman grabs a life-ring. "Adoption! Of course! That's so nice and cool!"

In a tone similarly underlined with franticness, Minako added, "What else could it have been?"

A moment of awkward silence flowed. The others were giving the two blondes decidedly strange looks. After a moment, the silence was broken as Subaru started laughing. "Do we even wanna know?"

"Uh..."

"Never mind, I'm sure we're happier not knowing."

* * *

Akane Tendo sat on the roof of the Tendo Dojo, hugging herself and crying.

She felt terrible. She'd hurt her sister badly, and while she frequently got mad at Nabiki, she'd never really wished her harm.

_Baka Ranma... why did you let that happen?_

A small voice in her head said, _It was our fault, not his._

_ Traitor. It can't be our fault. It just __**can**__**'**__**t!**_ Akane sniffed, tried to tune out the traitorous little voice.

_We were the one that didn`t take it seriously; that wasn`t paying attention. _The mental voice held a note of guilt.

_Yeah, well... Why didn`t Ranma stop us? __Before we... _She couldn't continue. She just couldn't.

_He tried,_ said the little voice, replaying her memory of Ranma's quiet suggestions. _We ignored him. We 'knew better.'_

_ Baka. Baka! Shut up, voice in my head! It has to be Ranma's fault! Daddy and Uncle Genma both said so, and it just can't be my fault!_

Clinging desperately to that thought, Akane wept, and wished she'd had the nerve to follow the others to the hospital. Anger, fear, and guilt had kept her away, and now they gnawed at her.

It would be a long time until the dawn.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Apologies for being late with this; it's been one of _**those **_weeks. Highlights include learning about a boil-water advisory for my area about two days after it went into effect thanks to the night shift, so my health has been... less than stellar. Anyway, here it is._

_Disclaimer: I own none of the 'verses this wanders through or otherwise draws upon. I make no claim to these settings or characters, and am far, far too poor to be worth suing._

-Chapter 9-

Though frequently billed as a city given over entirely to vice and crime, Roanapur actually has a fairly strong and reasonably effective police force. In several parts of town the old saw about 'streets safe for a virgin alone' are almost true, and in a touch over half of it there's almost always a cop on patrol. They constantly investigate that portion of town for the notorious criminal gangs and syndicates, and consistently fail to find them there, allowing the chief of police to declare loudly from the podium that the city's 'criminal woes' were a fiction and pocket his kickback without doing anything like putting his boys in the dangerous parts of town where they'd actually run into the members of the various gangs on a regular basis. The cartels lived here, most of their predations happened somewhere else.

For their part, the various gang leaders made sure their foot soldiers knew where not to go. Those discourteous enough to commit their crimes in sight of police were considered object lessons by the crime bosses; having a tame police force deflecting attention from their activities was far too good for business to start trouble with said police when one of their employees was too stupid to obey the rules.

The crime lords kept their parts of town more or less in order, keeping the obvious sleeze down to a low tide and cracking down on the messier types of street crime that might force the police to intervene. The police were able to devote more manpower to keeping their half of the city safe, and managed nicely. The net result of this corruption, crime, and business sense was a city that was, for the average Joe who didn't stick his nose where it didn't belong, one of the safest in the region. It was a system that worked, one that the involved parties had no desire to change.

So when a report of a series of running gun battles crossed the desk of the chief of police, he was not amused. One explosion could be mostly ignored by police – probably a gas leak, after all. One gunfight could be explained away or given only a token response that wouldn't find anything embarrassing to all involved. Something like this, however, meant trouble.

Partially because these sort of big blowups tended to indicate something going badly wrong among the cartels, which would inevitably lead to breaking in another gang leader to working with their little arrangement. Partially because they could also signify a major outside force showing up – he shuddered at the involuntary memory of Hansel and Gretel and their rampage. But mostly, because this kind of large-scale mayhem, even if the gangs managed to keep it inside their part of town, would require some kind of big, flashy, messy, and inconvenient response from the police if he wanted to keep his job.

Convincing the various gang bosses to not kill him over arresting several – possibly several dozen – of their people was going to be all sorts of fun, as well. He pulled a bottle of whiskey from his desk drawer, used a shot of it to wash down some tylenol. Time to get to work.

--------------

Happosai was enjoying a moment of peace and quiet to luxuriate in his liberated silky darlings. He'd outrun another batch of pursuers – honestly, he was going to give the local oyabun a strict talking-to about instilling proper discipline in one's underlings – and felt that rewarding himself for his good works was only his due. And those impulsive, disobedient underlings had been pressing him. Every time he thought he'd found himself some peace and quiet, a group of them would catch up, and then the gunfire and fighting and occasional Happo Fire Burst would begin.

The gunfire was starting to worry him, honestly. He'd never much used firearms himself, but he'd been somewhat familiar with them for over a century now, and they'd become vastly more powerful and dangerous since then. And these fellows were trying rather hard to shoot him. There were also a handful of fighters using more traditional weapons, including a Dragon Lady who'd been quite wicked, only wearing knickers, and no bra. On the one hand, he'd only been able to liberate half a set of silky darlings from her, but on the other, they'd been quite a set; fine silk of white under her red-and-gold cheongsam. She'd also had quite the battle aura, and she was a fine fighter with her kukris.

The old master smiled as he thought of her. Surrounded by modern folks using naught but guns, she held her own. It was satisfying to see, really. A few others had used melee weapons, ranging from the traditional to newfangled but still interesting things like collapsing batons, to one slightly undersized girl with exquisite taste in underclothing and a massive chainsaw. Quite an eclectic bunch, all told.

_Still,_ he thought as someone blew the door to his current resting place open, _they really should be more obedient to their masters. Poor discipline here._

-----------------

Shenhua was perhaps two steps behind Balalaika's lead goon as they charged into the attic they'd tracked Happosai to. Even if he hadn't stolen her underwear; even if Balalaika wasn't paying top dollar for this excursion; she'd be in on this hunt. There were few things that could redeem the honor of an exiled Chinese Amazon, and his head was one of them. She'd been happy enough to pass herself off as Thai for years, but she at least wanted the chance to go home someday.

A fistful of throwing irons flashed in the dim light as they sought the old bastard's guts, though the withered old Martial Artist managed to dodge them. He was gathering up his stolen goodies, she saw in the strobes of light from an AK-47's muzzle flash. He wasn't going to get away this time, not if they could help it.

Her kukri flashed in the dim light, coming close enough to trim hairs off the old bastard's head, then she found herself flying backwards courtesy of one of his impossibly strong kicks. She bounced off of something in the dark; came to rest against the far wall. She struggled to her feet as the Hotel Moscow goons sprayed fire towards the old master. He dodged their fire for a few moments, apparently gathering up a few dropped pairs of panties, then produced a bomb. Shenhua hit the floor as he shouted "Happo Fire Burst!"

The resulting explosion blew out a far wall. She couldn't quite hear what Happosai said as he bounded out through it over the ringing in her ears, but she grinned savagely as she heard Sawyer's chainsaw roar to life from the street below. It's throaty roar was an undertone for the copious gunfire that began to erupt from all over the block as the assembled gangsters, criminals, and mercenaries reacted to their prey being flushed out of his hide.

----------------

Both of her Sword Cutlasses in hand, Revy blazed away at the pervert troll, taking some care to not tag any of the other gunners involved in this fight, or that idiot Sawyer, who insisted on charging right in. She cursed as the chainsaw wielding goth fouled her line of fire, shifted position a bit to clear it. Eda and a few other members of the Church of Violence were adding their fire to her right. The little bastard was – somehow – dodging their fire, but the law of averages dictated that he'd fuck up eventually. When he did, it was going to go very badly for him. They were herding him towards the center of the street now, and he was moving that way whether he realized what they were doing or not. Revy smiled evilly. He was in for a hell of a shock when he got there.

As soon as he cleared the side of the building he'd been hiding in, three .50's opened up on him. The Church had brought one, the other two belonged to Hotel Moscow, and the sudden increase in the weight of fire caused the old man's day to get a lot worse. At least one of the big rounds clipped him, several others tore into his bag of goodies, and he screamed in outrage. Several of his bombs went flying in all directions. Revy shot two of the things out of the sky well before they reached their targets, as did a few of the others. A few luckless Italians got scragged by a bomb, but they were useless fucks anyway so who cared?

The smoke began to clear from the rapid explosions – fanned away in part by the copious gunfire – and Revy goggled in surprise. The little bastard was standing in the center of the street, apparently unhit, holding a bullet-riddled pair of underpants in both hands and crying. How in hell he managed to avoid getting perforated at this moment, none of the assembled gunmen would ever be able to figure out. The prevailing theory was that he had, for a few moments at least, gained the protection of some dark and perverse god.

But the moment passed quickly. Once more, he bellowed something in Japanese, in a voice so loud it could be clearly heard over the gunfire, and a wave of bombs flew wildly. Under cover of powder-smoke and explosions, he slipped away.

His pursuers checked their fire, and the hunt was on once more. They'd come close with this quickly laid trap. They would succeed next time.

---------------

Chang picked through the remains of what had been one of the nicer noodle shops in the dockyards district, trying to find anything that resembled a trail. It had taken a few hours, but they'd managed to corner Happosai again, and brought the bulk of their firepower to bear in another ambush; this time _sans_ the cal-50s. He wasn't quite sure what the Church or Hotel Moscow were thinking breaking those beasts out, and he wasn't looking forward to seeing the fallout come down with the cops. He hated breaking in new police commissioners and chiefs; far too much work. And there was always the outside chance that they'd get some fire-eyed crusader instead of the usual corrupt, pliable sort.

Admittedly, the odds of that weren't all that high in Roanapur, but one never knew when Murphy would take his cut.

The Triad boss knelt next to one of the chairs. It had taken a bullet, and there was a splash of blood next to the hole. They'd winged the little bastard, at least. When fifty-odd heavily armed thugs had shown up, everyone else in the area had gotten clear as they flushed the little man out. They hadn't killed him – not instantly, at least – but they'd done a number on him. And the noodle shop, the place looked like, well, fifty odd thugs with everything from handguns to assault rifles had opened up on it.

Chang looked further, saw a few other blood spatters and several pairs of women's underwear. _Well, this is a first_, he thought. _Never got him to drop his cargo before this... musta winged him good and hard._

_-------------_

Happosai cradled one of his arms gently as he slipped through back alleys. He was glumly certain that it was broken, and while he'd gotten the bleeding to stop, this place was filthy enough that even his immune system might not be able to stave off infection.

It was time for the master of the Anything Goes school of Indiscriminate Grappling to cut his losses and get the hell out of town.

He spotted a familiar, if nondescript, building. It looked like the others around it, a storefront with an apartment above it. But he'd been here earlier, and he knew it was one of the Yakuza's safe houses. He should be able to procure transport here. He didn't much care where to, at the moment, so long as it was somewhere far from this damnable city.

The Yakuza guarding the safehouse recognized him, quickly ushered him inside. He called someone higher in the food chain – only fitting for Happosai's stature, really – and informed the old master that he would be attended by the Oyabun shortly. In the mean time, would he care for some sake?

Happosai gratefully accepted the offer. It was almost a crime to use the rice wine as a disinfectant, for it was perfectly heated and held a hint of some wonderful, unfamiliar flavour. But he had not lived this long by allowing wounds to sour if he could avoid it. He winced at the sting, then quelled it with another drink. Then another. He was not overly concerned about getting a bit drunk at this point. No matter how unruly they were, surely these gangsters would not attack him while he sat in their master's lair.

After a few minutes, the Oyabun arrived. "Elder Happosai, you wished to see me?"

"Yes, my lad," the old master said. "I'd like some transport away from here. I'm impressed with the skill of your underlings, but not their discipline. They should know better than to attack your guests!"

For a moment, the Yakuza looked confused. "My underlings... you mean?" he trailed off, then burst out laughing. "Do you mean the men and mercenaries who have been hunting you?"

"Yes. You've gathered quite the skilled team, I will grant. It's been a long time since anyone's managed to shoot me, for one thing."

The Oyabun laughed loudly. After a long moment he managed to stop, and visibly collected himself. "Elder Happosai, those were not my men. Those were Triad, Mafia, Hotel Moscow, mercenaries, and a few from the Church of Violence. And some of my own."

Happosai was floored. "You- your men? Joined the attack against me?"

"Yes, Elder." The Yakuza's eyes hardened as he met the shocked master's gaze. "You gravely insulted all the leaders of Roanapur with your assault upon our meeting. Balalaika most of all. I am not so mad as to risk her wrath by shielding you. She wants your head, old master, and I shall deliver." He snapped his fingers, and another Yakuza lept through the doorway, firing some kind of man-catcher at him.

Happosai dodged the net, but barely. He blinked. Even with his injuries and the surprise of the attack, he should be faster! He looked around franticly.

"Your sake was laced with enough tranquilizers to put even you to sleep," the Oyabun supplied helpfully, standing. "Balalaika wishes to talk to you. I am going to make sure she gets her chance."

Whatever drug they'd laced his sake with – vile and shameful action, that, to desecrate good sake – was starting to kick in. The world seemed to blur around him as he staggered back, glancing from the Oyabun to his minions. The one with the man-catcher was loading another canister. The old master thought of the day he had been through and decided that he badly wanted to avoid the tender mercies of this Balalaika, who so terrified an Oyabun that he would betray a master of the martial arts to her.

Adrenaline is a lovely drug. It began to surge through the old man's system, now, and he wheeled, started to smash through the walls and out of the building. Behind him, the Yakuza shouted in surprise as he went through three brick walls as if they were so much rice paper. Happosai ignored them, tried to get his head to clear. He needed to get away, and that meant a boat. He'd come in on one, after all. He needed to find the waterfront, and quickly.

Luck was with him for the moment; and he reached the waterfront without incident. Even better! He spied a small fishing boat with an outboard that nobody was paying attention to. When the gangsters in pursuit of him reached the docks, he was just clearing the bay. He looked back at the desecrated Buddha that marked the city and thought, _I am never coming back here. It's too dangerous by half._

* * *

With dark circles beneath his eyes, Ranma sat down to the table. He had not slept easy the last night. Whenever he'd managed to drop off, the dream came again – Nabiki, flying headfirst across the room; but this time he was a step too slow. For a small mercy, his father hadn't woken him early for sparring. He was still tired. It had been a long week, even without last night's madness, and Ranma was feeling a little run down. A bit of lingering tiredness from the constant fights, coupled with a lot of frustration that they still didn't know what to do about these Youma. He got the distinct impression that this was a Very Bad Thing from the Outers, and given that they were the experts in that area, he was a bit worried.

Silently, he served himself from the breakfast table, exchanged nods with Kasumi and Soun, both of whom seemed every bit as tired as he was. Nobody had gotten much sleep last night, it seemed. His father sat across from him, not looking at him, an expression of vague contempt on his face. Clearly, he had not changed his mind on the situation.

"Anyone seen 'Kane?" Ranma asked.

"I don't think she is up yet, Ranma," said Kasumi, pouring herself another cup of tea.

"Huh. Gonna have to fix that, gotta help her work on her control."

Genma spoke. "No, you will not."

"Excuse me?"

The elder Saotome fixed his son with a glare. "You and your idiotic, mealy-mouthed training have done enough damage to her abilities. You did not instil proper discipline in her, and as a result, Nabiki is in the hospital! That, boy, is your fault!" Genma stood, began to pace. "I don't expect you to understand, boy, but some day you will thank me for this. You are a foolish boy playing at a man's responsibilities. You have been wasting entirely too much of your time playing around with the Sailor Senshi-" his voice held a sneer at this mention - "To properly concentrate on training anyone, even if you were trying to use proper training techniques."

Ranma stood slowly, trying to keep his temper in check. "Helping the Senshi is my job, old man. I gave my word that I'd do it. 'A martial artist's honor is everything', remember? Am I supposed to dishonor myself because I got too much on my plate?"

"Do not try to deny your failure by throwing my own teachings in my face, boy. Not when your failure led to such consequences."

"Are you sayin' that Nabs' getting' hurt is _my _fault? Akane's the one that hit her! I maybe coulda stopped her by jumpin' in, but I thought she was payin' attention an' bein' careful."

"Yes, it is your fault. You said it yourself, you could have prevented it. Akane is only a foolish girl, she is not at fault here. You and your pathetic idea of training is."

"No!" shouted Ranma, all the frustrations and disappointments and stress of the last few weeks catalyzing around his father's sneering condemnation. "No, I'm not training like you do. I'm not yanking them away from every Kamis-damned thing in their lives into the howling wilderness." He advanced on his father, rage etched on his features. Genma fell back a step, raised his hands as if to call for calm, but Ranma ignored him. "I'm not gonna beat 'em and starve 'em and run 'em inta the ground. And I'm sure as _hell_ not gonna go off on some half-assed stupid 'forbidden technique' or legendary training ground!"

The teen stopped within punching range and squared his shoulders before continuing his rant. "I lost _half my life's memories_ because you just _had_ to teach me the kamis-damned Neko-Ken, even though you hadn't read the damned scroll all the way through. We both got cursed because you were too stupid to check a damned guide book! Don't you _DARE _talk to me about how superior your training is supposed to be, old man. Yeah, I made a mistake. I shoulda stepped in directly 'steada trying to talk Akane down, but at least I didn't go outta my way to fuck them up! You sure as hell fucked me up!"

Genma's reply was a roar. "Everything I did, I did for _you,_ you ungrateful boy! I made you a man among men and all but a master of the martial arts! How dare you condemn me for it?"

"I dare because yer a hypocritical bastard! Yer always on me ta respect my teachers, but what did you do to yours? You sealed him inna cave! With a box of dynamite! Yer always telling me I gotta share any cure I hear about or find or anything, but whenever you get one, you do your best to keep anyone else from it, an' we all lose! You're giving me hell for the way I train, but yer not offerin' ta step up an' help, just sayin' I'm wrong. I ain't gonna take that from ya, not no more."

For a long moment total silence enveloped the Dojo. Kasumi's eyes were wide as she looked from father to son. On the far side of the room, Soun had stood up from behind the _shogi_ board, unsure if he would have to intervene – unsure even if he would even be capable of separating the two if the really decided to go at it.

Genma broke the silence. "It seems that you forget yourself, boy. I'm going to have to beat some respect back into your thick skull."

"Fine. I'll meet ya out back." The aquatransexual stormed out into the yard.

Genma moved to follow, but Soun's hand on his shoulder stopped him. Kasumi didn't hear his muttered statement, for she was already through the back door and racing up to Ranma, who stood in the middle of the yard.

"Ranma, are you sure about this?"

His expression was pained and a bit frantic. "I gotta do this, Kasumi. After everything else... he insults my honor, he insults me, and Akane, and Nabs, the way he was goin' on."

"I agree, but he is still your father, you don't have to fight him."

"Yes I do. He started this mess, he's the one who wants this fight. I'll damn well give it to him." He frowned, voice dripping venom. "He wants me to be an obedient son, after all, so why not fight if he wants me to?"

"Ranma, this is unlike you. Why are you being this way?"

Kasumi's eternal calm got through, and Ranma looked downcast for a moment. "I can't... I can't not do this. I've got way too much goin' on, an' too many problems that I can't do anythin' about. Can't stop whatever's sendin' these demons, an' fast as we get after 'em, they're still hurtin' people. A Martial Artist hasta protect the weak." He choked back a sob. "An' I can't even do that in a class! Nabs almost got killed last night 'cause I thought 'Kane was payin' more attention than she was."

Kasumi placed a hand on his shoulder, met his gaze. "You did protect Nabiki; her injury could have been far worse. I know that you are doing what you can to deal with these demons. You are not failing, Ranma Saotome, you are just struggling. You've struggled before, but you don't let it beat you."

Ranma took a deep breath. "You're right. I know, but I gotta figure out _how _first."

From the house, Genma sneered, "Are you hiding behind a woman's skirts now, boy?"

Ranma glared at his father as Kasumi retreated to the house. She stood beside her father as Genma advanced into the yard, sliding into a fighting stance. Ranma faced him, standing ready himself.

For a long moment the two martial artists stood facing each other, anger crackling in the air between them. Neither spoke nor moved for half a minute, then they exploded into motion, faster than the eye could track. Watching, Kasumi and Soun were unable to tell who had moved first; were barely able to track the two martial arts masters as they fought, attacks flying at speeds that could only be described as superhuman.

Suddenly, Genma jumped backwards, vanished into the Umi Sen Ken. Ranma did the same, and for most of a minute there was nothing to see or hear in the yard as the two stalked each other. Then Ranma appeared in the center of the yard. "Modified Moko Takabisha! Fierce Tiger Blast Wave!" A wave of energy radiated out from him, catching Genma in midair. It was not a mighty wave, perhaps, but enough to disrupt his father's Umi Sen Ken. Both fighters visible once more, the battle was rejoined, with an even greater intensity.

Watching from the sidelines, Soun Tendo's expression changed from concern about his friend to something approaching awe. Long had he known, in a vague, general sense, that both Saotomes were superior to him in the martial arts. Watching them fight now... he had vastly underestimated _how_ superior they had become. For most of the last year he had entertained the notion that, should the need arise, he would be able to hold his own against his old friend. That notion was utterly banished as the two Saotomes battled.

He moved to interpose himself between the fight and his daughter as the conflict escalated: there were ki blasts starting to fly around. Soun recognized a few of them as being techniques Genma had created in their youth. He was amazed, and somewhat frightened to see this, for he knew that, as a general rule, ki attacks simply were not used in anything that resembled a 'friendly' fight.

-----------

Genma Saotome sent another blast at his disobedient son and dodged the boy's reply. This was becoming quite the workout, but he did not worry about its outcome. He would win. He had taught the boy everything the boy knew, but not everything he himself knew. And Ranma did not know his measure; it had been ages since he had not held back in their morning sparring sessions, and he doubted his son had any idea just how powerful he was.

Still, the boy had admirable speed. Genma sent another blast downrange which Ranma neatly dodged. He felt a twinge for a moment as he saw that Tendo and his daughter were further downrange than his son had been, but fortunately the shot fell short of his friend.

"Sloppy, old man," growled Ranma as he darted in, landing a blow to Genma's midsection. The older fighter shook it off, counterattacked.

"Watch your tone, boy. And it is shameful of you to endanger innocents by your actions in a fight."

"I ain't the danger ya damned panda." Ranma slid another blow through his defenses and Genma snarled, turning to follow his son as he fell back a bit.

The exchange of blows continued for some undefinable time, and Genma finally managed to land a hit on the aquatransexual. "Sloppy, boy. You're slowing down. You _will_ learn to listen to your father!"

"Nah," said the youth, tripping Genma with a leg sweep. The older fighter didn't quite hit the ground, regaining his feet out of a handspring that brought him several feet clear. The two faced each other for a long moment, stances ready, eyes locked in an angry glare. Suddenly, Genma realized that he was looking at one of the yard's back corners, and that he hadn't seen the dojo itself in the backdrop for some time. Had his son been herding him away from their watchers? No, of course not. The boy wasn't _that_ good.

"I warn you, boy, I have been holding back for your sake. No longer. It will hurt me more than you, but I must teach you this lesson."

"Just shut up and try, old man. I'm tired a' yer blabbin.'"

Genma drew on his full capabilities, and now the battle truly reached a pace that only a master could follow. He pushed Ranma back towards the fence, a grim smile crossing his features as he did. This would keep the boy in line!

Then Ranma suddenly seemed to have his measure. The boy suddenly _moved_- stepping inside his guard and launching him halfway across the yard to land in a sprawl. He sprang to his feet, but his son was already _there_, fists and feet flying, putting him entirely on the defensive. Genma fell back, and back, and back. He drew on the Umi Sen Ken, but now the two were too close for him to be able to slip away. He drew on the Yama Sen Ken, but its power was nothing if he could not land a blow and Ranma avoided it with ease. He drew on dozens of other techniques, the dozens he had created in his youth, most of which his son had never before seen. Nothing worked. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he realized that he was not going to be able to win this fight.

For a long moment despair welled up within him, but he banished it with a bellowed cry of rage. "_I WILL NOT BE BEATEN BY YOU!"_ He made a last, desperate leap backwards to buy himself room, and unleashed his greatest direct attack. _**"DEMON GOD ASSAULT BOMB!"**_

A flight of vacuum blades sythed through the air, aiming for his son. Ranma dodged them with an expression of contempt, and replied with a blast of his own. "Moko Takabisha!" The blue-white beam caught Genma full in the chest and slammed him back, dazed.

When he regained his senses he tried to rise, but a pressure on his throat stopped him short. Ranma's foot rested there, just heavy enough to be felt. "Yield."

For a long moment, emotions warred within Genma, then he nodded almost imperceptibly. Ranma's foot came away, and the boy showed his back to his father as he walked towards the dojo. Slowly, Genma stood. _I... lost? No! I cannot lose, not to him, not like this!_

Genma surged forward in silence, leveling a blow for his son's back, but it never landed. With inhuman speed, Ranma whirled. Genma felt the back of his son's fist slam into the side of his face with sufficient force to knock his charge aside. He stumbled, off balance, and hit the turf, blood dripping from his mouth. Disbelieving, he looked up at his son. Their gazes met, and he saw only contempt. Without a word, Ranma turned his back on his father once more, and walked away.

Genma Saotome watched his son for a moment, then lowered his head in shame. He had lost, to the stripling boy he had taught. His son felt only contempt for him now; and he had a sense that perhaps that was justified. Certainly, Ranma could have ended that fight at any time of his choosing; his prowess at the end had been such.

In another man, such a thought might have led to a wellspring of pride in his offspring. In Genma Saotome, obsessed with himself, it brought only shame.

* * *

Akane waited until she was sure Ranma had left before coming downstairs. She had watched the battle between father and son. Ranma's treatment of his father had been downright shameful; mocking and contemptuous. And to finish him off with a backhanded blow after he had yielded! Such contempt!

Still, what could she expect from Ranma? His actions last night were every bit as shameful as this. She stomped hard on the little voice in her head that was trying - with little success but remarkable patience - to point out that demonizing Ranma would not fix what she had done to Nabiki. What happened _had_ to be his fault, because otherwise it would be hers, which was unacceptable, and so the dissenting line of thought was quashed.

She entered the kitchen in search of breakfast. Kasumi was cleaning some dishes. "Good morning, Kasumi."

"Good morning, Akane. Are you going to visit Nabiki in the hospital?"

In a voice that was, perhaps, too quick and whose confidence seemed feigned, she replied, "Why should I? It was that baka's fault."

"No, it wasn't."

Kasumi's quiet words cut like a whiplash, and Akane staggered at their blow. "But... but... You heard what Ranma and Uncle Genma said! They said it was Ranma's fault!"

"Ranma could have prevented the injury, yes. He could have made you stop. He could have decided not to have you and Nabiki spar at all. But the accident was not his fault." She paused, and her compassion almost stopped her from finishing as she saw Akane's expression. "Ranma didn't hurt her by being careless; you did."

Akane wanted to deny it; her pride screamed at her to deny it. But she couldn't. Kasumi, compassionate, sweet, caring Kasumi, would not lie about something this important, and deep within Akane knew that she spoke truly. She could not deny it. She broke into sobs. "Oh, Kasumi! I didn't mean to, really I didn't."

Kasumi enfolded her younger sister in a comforting hug. "I know you didn't. So does Father; so does everyone. It was an accident, and accidents happen in training."

"But I hurt her _so bad!_ What do I do?"

Kasumi held her sister close, felt Akane's tears soak into her clothing. In a quiet, soothing voice, she said, "You should apologize to Nabiki, and to Ranma. And you should learn from this, so that you never cause another accident like it again."

Akane sobbed for a few moments longer, then said, "Will Nabiki forgive me?"

"I think she will, but you will have to ask her yourself." She thought but did not say, _and yen might be involved._

There were a few more quiet sobs, then Akane sniffed, collecting herself. "What were the visiting hours, again?"

-------------

"You're kidding. Ranma an' Genma did _that? _Please tell me you got it on tape."

"We weren't exactly thinking about that at the time. Sorry."

"Figures," Nabiki sighed as she sagged back onto her hospital bed. "Kamis, that must have been quite the sight."

"It was," said Akane from her chair. Nabiki looked... well, better than she had a right to. They'd done an x-ray last night, and taped up her ribs. Two had been broken, three others cracked, and she would be in hospital for observation for a few days at least, then home. The estimate was four to six weeks for the injury to heal completely. A nurse had shown her the x-ray, and Akane had felt a stab of terror and sympathetic pain at what she had wrought.

"So what started it?" asked Nabiki. She wasn't really in pain, per se, and she suspected that no-one with the amount of painkillers currently in her system could really be said to _be_ in pain, and while she appreciated that, it was making her thoughts a bit, well, fuzzy. Concentrating was hard.

Akane looked ashamed for a moment. "It was an argument about last night. Genma blamed Ranma and... he shouldn't have." She paused for a moment. The youngest Tendo daughter knew that what she had just said was true, but that didn't make saying it aloud any less painful. "I screwed up, Nabiki... I'm so sorry."

"Jus' don't do it again."

"Thank you," Akane said quietly.

For a long moment the only sound was the beeping of the hospital monitors, then Nabiki said, "Well... once I get outa here I'll send you a bill."

The two shared a laugh. "Still," said Akane after a moment, "Thank you."

* * *

Ranma had been roofhopping for hours. No destination in mind, no thought, just exercise. Just something to keep himself going and burn the anger, shame, and hate from his system. With his body thus occupied, he turned his mind to the other problems at hand. He'd been more or less counting on the Senshi to be able to run down the source of their attackers – they'd fought the things before after all – and thus had been trying not to get too worried about it. But it had niggled at him, and more and more, he just didn't like not knowing.

_An' fer all I've tangled with demons, ghosts, dragons, and all... I know next to nothin' about how they work._ Oh, the admission stung, even simply to himself. But he could feel the ring of truth to it. For all he would prefer to learn and become an expert on the subject, he had very little idea of where to start learning, and no time. _I guess even I can't be the best at everything..._

He frowned again at that thought, then shrugged. _Deal with that later. For now, find someone who can help._

Figuring out just who that someone was didn't take long. The old ghoul was more or less the only expert on the subject he knew. But he wasn't sure she'd be willing to help him. Mark that, he wasn't sure she'd be willing to help him without first extracting a promise to follow her home afterwords. There had to be a way around that, but he'd have to talk to her to find it.

He planted his next roof-jump, looked around. Snorted. He was halfway across Tokyo from home. Ah well, nothing to do but head back. He began to do so, alternating between roof-hopping and short bursts of flight – he was still improving the technique, and as tired as he was it was draining. He took the direct route, this time, and made it back to Nerima ward quickly. It wasn't much further to the Neko Han Ten, and he dropped down to street level to go the rest of the way.

Lost in thought as he wracked his brain for ideas on how to convince Cologne to help him, he suddenly stopped short as something caught his eye. Hikaru Gosunkugi was walking along further up the block, trying to be invisible. Voodoo Spike was generally considered a crackpot, but Ranma'd been on the receiving end of enough mystical whammies from the guy to buy into it totally – any idiot could be lucky enough to find one magic doodad or another, it took skill to find as many as he had.

Ranma weighed his options for a long moment. It was a long shot, but better than nothing. "Hey, Gosunkugi!"

The smaller teen started, surprised that anyone had noticed him. He glanced back, saw Ranma. "Hi, Saotome. What's up?"

"You know a lot about magic an' demons an' stuff, right?" Gosunkugi nodded. "I'm wonderin' if ya can do me a favour."

He looked warily at the aquatransexual. "What kind of favour?"

"Huntin' info. Those demons been turnin' up lately? The Senshi can't figure out where they're comin' from. Was wonderin' if you might know how to find out."

Gosunkugi laughed. It was an odd laugh, as befitted an odd youth, with tinges of mania and strangeness. "You want me to go looking for something the Senshi can't find. You're nuts."

Ranma shrugged. "Well, I figured you might be up for a challenge. Thought you were proud of what you know."

Voodoo Spike paused for a moment, brow furrowing in thought, before replying. "Look, I know some stuff, but not all that much. The Senshi are specialists at this sorta thing. If they can't find it, what makes you think I can?"

Ranma shrugged again. "Dunno. I honestly ain't an expert on this kinda thing, I just always get hit with 'em. I figured, you're smart an' ya know this kinda freaky stuff in general, so why not run it past ya?" He turned to go. "Somethin' ta think about, is all. See ya, Gosunkugi."

Ranma shrugged to himself philosophically. Weather or not that inspired the guy, a seed had been planted. It might pay off later. For now, he had to try Cologne.

_And then to the hospital,_ he thought. _Nabs should be able to see visitors by now._

* * *

Setsuna Mioh rubbed at her forehead, trying to will away a growing migraine. She'd checked, poked, prodded, and tested every component of the Time Gates, and everything appeared to be working properly. And yet it still couldn't tell her anything about these attacks. Something was niggling her, something she could not bring out where her brain could articulate it, and it was immensely frustrating for her. Something in how she was searching...

The phone rang, derailing her train of thought. Sighing, she picked up the handset and gave the call display a cursory glance. Then she did a double-take. The call was coming in from the repeater the TSAB had set up to help them contact the various earthbound mystic agencies who might be able to help them, or who might wish for their help. Since its installation, it had been used all of three times, all of those tests. She wondered which of her prospective allies was calling her now. "This is Sailor Pluto."

The voice was male, older, and heavily accented. "This is Thomas Manning, Miss Pluto. Director, Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense."

"Good..." She glanced at the clock, did some math. "Evening, Mister Manning. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've been watching the news this past week, and it looks like you have a few problems."

"We have the situation well in hand, Mister Manning. We have dealt with these creatures before."

"I'm well aware of that, but at the moment you appear to be severely shorthanded. I was wondering if you would care for some assistance."

Setsuna hesitated for a moment before replying. The damnable thing was, he was right. "May I ask why you're offering such assistance?"

"You may. First, because problems like this are best dealt with quickly. In our experience, if you let them go on too long they can spiral out of control. Secondly, we know from painful experience that trying to deal with something like this when you already have a personnel problem is a royal pain. And thirdly, we have an agent in the region who's just finishing up an assignment in Tibet. He can be on the ground helping you within a day."

Setsuna weighed his arguments, and the unspoken but almost certainly in force _'and forthly, we know next to nothing about you and want to fix that.' _She considered the fact that – damnably – the American was right: they didn't have this problem in hand and it stood a very good chance of getting much worse. Her mind raced for a few moments, and finally, she made a decision. "Under the circumstances, I think we'll be happy for your help."

"I'm glad. Perhaps someday, you can even return the favour."

"Perhaps we could. Oh, and can I ask, who is the agent you'll be sending?"

-------------

Haruka looked up from the book she'd been reading as Setsuna walked, fuming, from her office. She made a beeline for the kitchen and started rattling around in the fridge. "What's up, Set-chan?"

The elder Senshi looked up from the fridge. "I find myself suddenly needing a drink. Where's the Emergency Sake?"

"The freezer, why?" She was concerned now, this boded ill.

"I just agreed to let the Americans send their pet here to help us. That requires a drink."

* * *

Genma Saotome was packing his clothes and other possessions in a battered knapsack. He had not spoken since the disastrous end of his battle with his son, and he hoped to be away without any fanfare.

It was not to be. "Where are you going, old friend?" asked Soun from the doorway.

"Just a training trip. I heard a rumor a while ago about an old master living on Mount Tokachi. I figure to pay him a visit, then come back and put my son back in his place."

"Mount Tokachi is quite the trip from here."

"I've gone on longer, Tendo. We both have, remember?"

"Of course. And you'll be back once you see the old master?"

There was a bare moment's hesitation before Genma's reply. "Of course." He did a mental checking over of his pack, nodded in satisfaction, and closed it. Standing, he shouldered the pack and said, "Don't worry, Tendo, I'll be back before you know it."

In silence the two friends walked down to the main door. In silence, Soun watched his oldest friend walk away. Neither dared to speak the thought foremost in their minds. That Genma Saotome's history of actually confronting a problem that he knew could defeat him was... poor.


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I own none of the universes and series this meanders through and all characters created by other authors belong to them._

_Author's note: Not entirely happy with this, some scenes simply refused to gel. But I've delayed long enough._

-Chapter 10-

Nanoha stretched, popping her back, as she walked into her office. She was getting increasingly impressed with the Senshi. They clearly had considerable battle experience, and under her tutelage, they were developing the skills and tactics to make best use of that experience. She wouldn't bet too much on them against Section 6's Forwards – especially after Teana had spent a day watching their new techniques and tactics in action; the redhead was a diabolical genius when it came to tactics – but they were an excellent team in their own right.

When Chrono had first dropped the assignment across her desk, she hadn't been terribly thrilled. Only a month? That, she had thought, was not enough time. She'd been sent more than a few established teams over the years for the purpose of giving them tactical primers, general skill-improvements, and occasionally simply taking the proverbial wind out of the sails of teams whose confidence wasn't quite justified. It was not a process that she liked to rush.

Even a team that had a good sense of camaraderie and fellowship needed time to forge into a solid tactical unit. She _had _gotten a sense that the five girls possessed that fellowship and camaraderie, but they'd seemed somewhat undisciplined. The AAR Subaru and Teana had filed for their skirmish alongside them had backed that impression up. It had also shown some weaknesses in their tactical toolboxes. Had she her druthers, she'd have found a way to extend this training to at least three months.

But they hadn't been given that option. She'd had a month, and had expected to just go over the basics and get the very rudimentary first stages of training done in the hopes of having some way to help them further in the future. She'd done up her initial lesson plans and schedule of mock battles accordingly. She'd thrown that plan out the window before the end of the first week. Once they got started, they were learning amazingly quickly. It had taken more work than she'd expected – they continued to surprise her as the speed with which they learned quickened – but she'd managed to keep her lesson plan to the point where it was providing them with a useful challenge.

She suspected that she was gaining at least a small measure of understanding of what she'd put her own instructors through. The thought brought a smile, though a bit rueful. Not only was she spending more time in the office than expected, her daughter had demonstrated a mastery of the art of the accusing pout. Little Vivio was not happy with her Nanoha-mama and the lack of time she had. She couldn't exactly blame her daughter for the attitude, Nanoha herself wasn't terribly happy with how little time she had in what was ostensibly the off season at the academy. She'd have to make it up to her later.

She needed to try and actually use some of her accumulated leave. She'd probably have to burn a favour or two with the brass to manage that, if only because she wanted to get her leave at the same time as Fate. Ah well, something to arrange in the future. She had lesson plans to work on, and then she would head home to spend the evening with Vivio.

* * *

Aimlessly, Akane Tendo walked through Nerima, lost in thought.

It had been an interesting morning. She'd started the day by joining Ranma in the yard as he did his morning exercises- in this case running through kata. Neither had said a word to the other, but he had slowed his pace to one she could match. After several kata, they'd shifted to sparring, again with Ranma setting the pace – just barely fast enough that Akane had to use a touch of ki to keep up. If her own speed started to race away- which happened several times – Ranma would simply leap out of range. It was a bit frustrating, but eventually she managed to work out a way to hold a given speed.

After about half an hour of that, Kasumi had called them in for breakfast. Ranma had broken his silence then, complementing her on her improved control, and suggested a few things that might help make it easier. She'd thanked him and resolved to try a few of the suggestions out. More than anything, she desperately did not want to hurt someone so badly by accident in the future. She shuddered involuntarily at the memory. Thank the kamis for Dr. Tofu.

The breakfast itself had been... quiet. Ranma seemed subdued and tired. His... exchange... with his father seemed to have taken a lot out of him, as if purging himself of so much pent up frustration left him somewhat empty. Thinking back to the shouting, there'd been a lot more than just the... accident... involved.

Still. They had eaten, and Akane helped Kasumi clean up. She'd offered to help with lunch, but Kasumi had declined her offer, suggesting instead that she take some time to visit Nabiki instead. On the balance, that idea worked for her, and Akane had spent most of an hour enjoying a rambling chat with her middle sister. She'd wanted to stay longer, but a nurse chased her off, saying that Nabiki needed her rest. They would probably be able to let her come home in another day or so.

After that, she'd wandered in the general direction of home, though in no real hurry. She should probably take some time to practice her newfound skills, though other, more fun things also beckoned...

"Nia Hao, Pervert Girl!"

Akane started, surprised, and turned. Shampoo rode up on her delivery bike, looking smug. She snarled. Of all the people she _didn't_ want to deal with right now...

----------

Shampoo smiled. She wanted a confrontation like this. When her beloved had come to the Neko Han Ten to try and recruit Mousse she'd heard him speak about training the Pervert Girl. This was not something she liked to hear; for all great-grandmother's assurance that Ranma would inevitably fall to her sway, she didn't much like the competition getting closer to her Arien. She'd wanted to help deal with these demons, to gain favour, but great-grandmother had forbidden her or Mousse to do so. To attract trouble, especially demonic trouble, without need was not in the best interest of the Amazons. And so they would do nothing.

It grated on her, She was a creature of action and doing nothing did not suit her. Normally she wouldn't worry about Akane Tendo as a source of competition – she was far too good at antagonizing Ranma herself to be any kind of worry – but if she was willing to submit to training she was probably willing to fight for Ranma's heart... and that could complicate things.

The normal Amazon approach to something like this was perfectly simple – obstacles are for killing, after all – but great-grandmother had forbidden this as well. "He seems unaccountably fond of the little harridan," she'd said, and Shampoo had to admit she was right. So Shampoo had been forbidden to simplify the situation with Ranma by taking out either of the other fiances, and especially not to start anything.

But here was Akane, looking troubled. The pervert girl had a damnably short temper at the best of times, and if Shampoo found herself under attack, well, it would only be reasonable for her to defend herself, wouldn't it? She wouldn't _break _the annoying girl, but she felt she could _bend_ her a bit safely.

"What do _you_ want?" asked Akane angrily.

"Shampoo hear you try kill sister."

Akane bristled at that. "That's not what happened!"

Shampoo smirked. She thought she'd just hit a nerve. "So you say not your fault Mercenary Girl in hospital?"

The people of Nerima, well used to seeing fights begin between martial artists, saw the signs that one was about to start and made room. A few started to place bets while others - eager for a cat fight- pulled out camera phones.

Akane froze, ground her teeth for a moment. "I wasn't trying to hurt her."

"That make it worse, Pervert Girl. You not too dumb know that?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Roaring in anger, Akane charged, fist cocked, and Shampoo lept from her bike, dodging away. Akane stumbled over the falling bike for a moment, and then battle was joined.

Very quickly, Shampoo realized she had bitten off more than she'd realized. She was more skilled than the Japanese girl, and what training Akane had done with her beloved Ranma had improved her, but not enough to entirely close the gap. But Akane had never been this _fast._ Shampoo had to step up her game to keep up.

"Not bad, Pervert Girl." She delivered a blow that sent Akane flying.

Akane twisted in mid air, managed to land on her feet. "Better than you are."

"In dreams only!"

The two charged towards each other, preparing to battle again. Suddenly, there was a sound of tearing cloth and a smell of sulfur; and an eye-twisting rip in reality itself opened between them, disgorging an ugly, tentacled form. The Youma roared a challenge to all and sundry.

------------

Akane blinked at the horrid creature - a large humanoid thing with several long, ropey tentacles jutting from its back - then looked to Shampoo. The two rival martial artists shared a look that said, 'we'll finish this later.' She charged, struck the thing's side with a flying kick. From the other side, Shampoo began to hammer at it with her maces – Akane wasn't sure where they'd come from, but they were a welcome sight.

The creature seemed to recover it's balance quickly, tentacles lashing at the two martial artists, sending them sprawling and gaining itself some breathing room. It backed away, claws and tentacles shifting into striking positions, as if daring the two female martial artists to attack it. It glanced around furtively, as if looking for something.

_Is this a Youma?_ Akane thought, suddenly worried. Ranma had been his usual, blustery self about the things, but enough had come through the bluster to indicate that they were fairly powerful. Right now, it was dividing its attentions between looking around the oddly deserted street and looking at her and Shampoo. Akane smiled slightly. Ranma had said the things fed on life-energy; it was probably wondering where the people went. _Away from the impending fight. This is Nerima, the locals understand that._

She tried to guess the reach of the thing's tentacles, shot another glance Shampoo's direction. The Chinese Amazon seemed to be having the same thought. They exchanged slight nods, and charged simultaneously. Tentacles lashed out, with far more reach than anything that close to man-sized had a right to, and the two martial artists dodged around the first few strikes.

But the thing was too fast, and too many limbs were attacking them at once. Akane was knocked aside, rolling to a stop on the pavement, while a tentacle managed to snag Shampoo's lower leg. It lifted her from the ground and, in a whiplash motion, sent her flying through the front window of a noodle shop.

Akane stood and got herself back into a ready stance. That thing hit _hard._ She was trying to figure out how to deal with it when a voice boomed out.

"Vile monster! How _DARE_ you assault this fair maiden! I, the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High, shall destroy you!" Tatewaki Kuno charged the monster, bokken blurring. A credit to the kendoist's skill; he managed to parry the first few strikes from the monster. Then it grabbed his blade with one tentacle, his middle with another, and threw them in opposite directions.

Unfortunately for the monster, while it was dealing with Kuno, Akane charged it from behind and sent it sprawling. Well inside its reach, Akane battered at the creature's torso with her fists, kicking its legs. The thing was trying desperately to get its balance back, and managed after a few moments with the help of its tentacles. It whirled on her, tentacles weaving a complex dance of feints, blocks, and strikes that began to drive Akane back.

Moments later, the wall of the noodle shop exploded outward and Shampoo reentered the fray. She battered at the monster, flanking it with Akane, and the tables turned again as the two drove it back. After a few paces, the youma planted its feet, then lept half a block backwards, opening the range again. The two charged, trying to get back inside its reach before it had its balance back.

The creature refused to let them. It was smart enough to know that it badly did not want to let them get close again, and its speed was literally inhuman. It managed to get one tentacle on Shampoo, and swung her around overhead, then slammed her into, and through, a fire hydrant. An extremely unhappy pinkish-white cat rolled to a stop on the pavement as water geysered up. Akane managed to dodge the first few tentacles seeking her, but once more there were simply too many. The youma seemed to decide to change things up, wrapped several tentacles around her and began to squeeze.

Akane yelled in anger and pain, struggling against the grasping tentacles. After a moment, her brain caught up, and realized just _where_ some of those tentacles were squeezing.

_**"HENTAI!!!!"**_ she screamed, and suddenly an aura of angry red ki flared around her. She managed to get one hand loose, and felt her ki surge down to that hand, in which she found a large mallet. A few one-handed strikes convinced the creature to drop her, then she took up the mallet in both hands and charged, screaming in rage.

The youma fell back, leaping around and trying to avoid her. Several desperate blows failed, and then it managed to get ahold of her mallet and ripped it away. Her ki still surging, Akane almost instantly found herself holding another one. This one had spikes. The youma, not frightened off, grabbed again and threw her into a wall. It was not enough to stop her, but it knocked the wind out of her, and before she could rise the monster had several of its tentacles poised to deliver a crushing blow to her half-prone form.

_"Modified Shi Shi Hokodan! Determined Lion's Blast!"_

A bolt of royal-blue ki lanced down and caught the Youma in its center of mass, staggering the monster. Ryoga dropped out of the sky, delivering a devastating drop kick to the thing that sent it the rest of the way to the ground. He smirked as it rolled into a crouch. "Get up, you worthless monster!"

The Youma did, and crashed right back down courtesy of Ryoga's strikes. It tried to lash at Ryoga with a tentacle from a prone position, but the fanged boy dodged the strike with contemptuous ease, blasted it with another ki blast. A tentacle whipped out, caught a lamppost and pulled it upright, where it tried once more to strike back, attempting to achieve through number of blows what it had failed with single strong ones. Ryoga blocked most of the strikes, too quickly for it to wrap a tentacle around a blocking arm. The blows that landed seemed not to move him.

Behind them both, Shampoo emerged from the noodle shop with a tablecloth wrapped around herself and charged for the Youma.

Showing far more self-preservation instincts than was common for its ilk, the Youma abandoned trying to fight and switched to all-out fleeing. Unfortunately for it, Ryoga was quick enough to grab a trailing tentacle. Even more unfortunately, the fanged boy was strong enough to plant his feet and, using that tentacle, bring the monster to an abrupt, whiplash inducing halt. He yanked hard, pulling the Youma off its feet and sending it crashing to the ground, where Akane and Shampoo set upon it.

It didn't take too long for the frenzied blows and spikey-hammer strikes to finish the creature off, and it vanished into dust.

The three martial artists stood in silence for a moment, regarding each other. Akane broke the silence. "Thanks for the help, Ryoga."

"No problem, 'Kane." He looked smug. "Know where Ranma is? I want to show him my new party trick."

As if on cue, Ranma dropped to the street at running speed, quickly brought himself to a halt. He looked the scene over, then exchanged nods with Ryoga. "Everyone okay?"

Akane replied, "I think so. Ryoga showed up at just the right time." A pause. "Well, I think Kuno's knocked out somewhere over there, but the rest of us are fine."

"Thanks, man," he said to Ryoga. "Sorry I'm late. A buncha' the things showed up at once. Hadda deal with another one."

Ryoga was looking his friend/rival over. "You okay man?" Ranma appeared to be bleeding from a few cuts, and his shirt and pants were both torn in a few spots.

He smiled ruefully. "It got a few licks in, but I took care of it." He looked around again. "You okay, Shampoo?"

The Chinese Amazon was frowning at the ex-fire hydrant. "Clothes there, no can get without get wet again."

"Ryoga, could you go get them for her?" asked Akane.

The fanged boy froze for a moment as Ranma chimed in, "Yeah, Ryoga, be a gentleman an' go get 'em."

The two boys exchanged a look heavy with something... Akane wasn't quite sure what. After a moment, Ryoga growled, "Why don't you do it? _You're_ the one who was late to the fight."

Ranma chuckled, walked over to the geyser. The aquatransexual wrung the silk garments mostly dry and tossed them to Shampoo, who seemed to consider a big kiss of thanks, then glanced at Akane and decided, for the moment, not to. "Thank you, Arien." Then, to Akane, "You got much better, Violent Girl. We finish fight another time?"

"Whenever you want." Akane was feeling a bit smug. _I was almost beating you before that... thing... showed up. I know it's possible now. _"I haven't had a chance to talk to you in a while, Ryoga, why don't you come back to the Dojo with us?"

* * *

Mamoru Chiba stood in the 'Arrivals' section of Tokyo International Airport feeling vaguely ridiculous.

The Outers had apologized for blowing him off, and he'd pitched in against the day's attack(Haruka had accepted his aid with stiff politeness, mostly because she only needed it because she'd messed up). And now he was waiting for a plane.

That alone would have been enough to make him feel a bit ridiculous, or at least self conscious. He hadn't traveled much, and the urge to rubberneck was strong, much as it flew in the face of his usual poise. What really made him feel off was who, or perhaps he should say, _what_ he was waiting for.

He'd heard of Hellboy before, of course. The American Demon's prior trips to Japan weren't exactly common knowledge, but neither were they secrets. The fact that the country had survived its previous visits intact was of some small comfort, but he'd be lying if he said he was happy about it. For all he'd enjoyed seeing the Outers deal with the situation without him, and had seen it more or less as a reasonable consequence of their blowing him off, he had no problem with the idea of bringing in help. This Ranma Saotome was almost as good as his rep bragged, but the problem was bigger and they'd needed more. He understood that. He was not some fanatic who refused to consider the bigger picture.

But just like the others, his pride stung at the thought of bringing in gaijin help.

Still, Setsuna had let herself get maneuvered into accepting it, and so they were stuck with Hellboy as soon as his flight made it in. He checked the big board again. The flight number they'd been given was listed as 'ARRIVED' and had been for a few minutes now. Possibly, the Customs people were holding him up, though Mamoru wasn't entirely sure how they dared. The guy was supposed to be most of eight feet tall, a giant even among Americans.

Mamoru heard the general murmer of waiting people change, glanced back to the gate. His eyes widened. _Kamis... he really IS that big..._ People were giving the demon plenty of room, and Mamoru didn't blame them one bit. A battered looking trenchcoat over a massive red frame, short black hair that, at first glance, looked like it was receding. Another look showed that it simply didn't grow around its ground-down horns. The left hand, holding the strap of a carry-on bag, looked more or less normal. The right looked like it was roughly hewn from stone, save that it moved.

The gaijin demon was looking around. _Probably for me, _thought Mamoru, and flagged it down. The big demon lumbered over. In good but heavily accented Japanese, it said, "I take it you are my contact?" He spoke slowly, as if picking his words carefully.

"I'm with the Senshi, yes."

It nodded. "Okay. I will need a moment to get my luggage, and then I will be ready to go." A pause as the two started towards the baggage claim. "I apologize for my Japanese. I am a bit out of practice."

"I wouldn't have guessed. It's certainly better than my English." Mamoru followed the demon to the baggage area, frowning in thought. His initial impression of this demon was... not as bad as he'd expected. With the demon concentrating on finding his things, it wasn't paying attention to him. Mamoru relaxed and extended his senses. He had some small psionic talents, and while they weren't terribly strong in the area of reading another's mind, they could give surface impressions.

_Strength... desire to help... curiosity about the mission... a strong sense of justice...and an awareness of- oops._

Hellboy was giving him a cool look. "See anything you like?"

"Uh..."

The demon turned back to the baggage turnstile, looking for his luggage. "I work with a couple psychics, you know. I know what a scan feels like."

Mamoru glanced away. "Sorry. Most of the time we're fighting creatures like you, so..."

"So you aren't sure if you can trust me. Fair enough. But you could have asked first."

The big demon retrieved his luggage – a battered looking old leather suitcase – in silence.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't thinking."

Hellboy shrugged. "It happens. Hell, even back home not everyone is comfortable with me. Let's go meet the rest of the team."

"Okay. What do you know about the situation?"

"Escalating demon attacks, and you've got a liaison from the TSAB helping." He snorted. "And that's another group we don't know much about."

"We don't know much either. The liaison is a local. Martial Artist. But he's good."

"I don't doubt it. We gonna be meeting him today, or straight to your HQ?"

"HQ first, I think. The others are going to want to meet you."

* * *

Sally Harp was a very young, very junior teleporter tech, but one who had scored very well indeed in her classes at Njile Point. Those scores had landed her a berth in the Explorer Corps, and she hoped to do well enough in this assignment to keep it. Her current job was to make sure the teleporters were working properly on the off chance that they would be needed in the next six hours or so. Unlikely, given that they were still waiting for Admiral Kallson and his fleet to arrive, but there was always a chance.

And besides, The Book said they needed to keep the things warmed up and ready to go at all times. One so junior as herself did not question The Book. Still, it was shaping up to be a boring shift. She'd been assured that boring was good on a warship, but she wasn't quite sure she believed it. Boring meant that the hours just dragged.

And what kind of trouble could they possibly run into here? The indigs had little magic and virtually nothing in the way of space travel – limited to absurdly primitive chemical rockets!

The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention. Glancing to the door, she saw who had entered and her heart skipped a beat. Enforcer Engel Schwarze stood there, leaning against the doorframe. She'd never been this close to him before, and the pictures did not do him justice. A small, mischievous smile marked his handsome face, framed with short auburn hair. That smile widened as his violet eyes found hers and she felt herself blush.

"How's your shift running, Miss Harp?"

She fought down her blush, the sensible bits of her mind screaming at her to be professional despite the attention of a famous, devastatingly handsome man. "Ah, fine so far, Sir. Ah, quiet."

His rich tenor had a trace of mischief as he walked in, letting the hatch close behind him. "All the gear working properly?"

"Ah, yes sir."

"Call me Engel, Sally – may I call you Sally?" He waited a moment, and she nodded fractionally. His smile widened before he continued. "Well, that's certainly good news, Sally. It's nice to see a new young tech live up to her potential." He took the chair beside hers, leaned towards her. "So many don't.. I always love to meet the... exceptions."

She felt her face heat. "Ah, thank you si- Engel. I'm doing my best."

"And a fine best it is." His grin became conspiratorial. "Can I get you to do me a favour, Sally?"

Professionalism rallied, tried to conquer hormones, crushes, and masculine charm. "Ah, I don't know, sir. What sort of favour?"

"Oh, nothing much, Sally. It's just a little thing, and I'll... owe you." There seemed to be a hefty freight of meaning behind that last phrase, and the aspiring young tech's professionalism knew that it had lost. "I just need you to leave the teleport room for a few minutes."

Professionalism's last stand pointed out standing orders and the Enforcer's maverick reputation. "I don't think I can do that, sir. Captain Kars left orders that you are not to be teleported to the surface."

He gestured as if brushing off some lint. "Oh, the Mage-Captain's heart is in the right place, but between you and me?" He leaned in closer. "I think he's being too cautious for his own good. There are a lot of troops coming with Admiral Kallson, and they're depending on us to get him good intel. There's only so much we can get from watching." He smiled wider, shrugged. "We need to know more about those yokel mages. I just want to go down there and get a better idea. For the troops."

"But... the orders..."

"Oh, I know. That's why I'm not asking _you_ to operate the teleporters. I'll go, and on my head be it. I'll get chewed out, of course, but I've been chewed out before. The benefit to the troops will make it worth it, don't you think? They may just be ground pounders, but they're _our _ground pounders." A pause, as he let the justification sink in. "I'm not asking you to do anything wrong, and I'll take full responsibility. All I need you to do is go get yourself a coffee."

Professionalism had been routed, and Duty let itself be bent by the Enforcer's charms. "Well... if you're sure..."

He leaned close, almost cheek to cheek, and she shivered as she felt his beard brush her cheek. He whispered, "I'm sure. Thank you, you won't regret this."

On slightly shaky legs she stood, walked through the hatch. Once it had closed she fell back slightly, letting it support her. He liked her! Her, just a wet behind the ears newbie, and he liked her! She fought down a girlish giggle and forced herself to stand straight before an officer wandered past. To the mess, and something to drink.

--------

Schwarze waited for a moment after the hatch closed, then chuckled. Gods below, but some girls were easy to manipulate.

Harp was a fool, but at least she was too green to know better. Kars didn't have that excuse, and Schwarze had made a career out of audacity. He knew exactly the letter of the regs, how far he could bend them before they broke, and how to cover himself in the eyes of Higher. His role as an Enforcer gave him just enough discretion that he could skate away from this with ease.

Harp would be an amusing diversion after the fact, between her obvious crush and gratitude for his defense when she inevitably got chopped off at the ankles for leaving her station mid-shift, she'd certainly hop into his bunk. He hadn't added a notch to the proverbial bedpost in a while, and this deployment was so terribly dull that he felt the need. She was cute and none too bright, just the combination he liked.

He quickly programed in his teleport. He'd seen the holos of the yokel mages fighting their summoned demons. They were good. He was better. Time to take them out and clear the way for the dogfaces. He hit the delayed execution button and hurried to the pad, visions of victory and commendations dancing in his head.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: I own none of the works this wanders through and I'm not making any money off of this. Please don't sue._

-Chapter 11-

Engel Schwarze stood atop a skyscraper, watching the sun set.

_I have spent entirely too much time shipboard,_ he thought. _This should not be all that interesting a sight._ He gave the sight a few more moments, then looked around, considering his options. The locals had been very quick to respond to attacks by Beryl's pets, and their response had always been swift and direct: kill it with fire immediately if not sooner. He strongly suspected that they were honestly unaware of his arrival.

He'd read the reports, and browsed the local information networks(magicless IT networks were ever so easy to hack) and he did not get the impression of agents who would let someone like him wander around their chosen city unopposed. Especially the 'martial artist.' This Ranma Saotome was not exactly noted for having restraint or patience. He'd be responding to Schwarze's presence if he was aware of it. Assuming even half the things said about him were actually true – and most of the sources were unprofessional enough that he rather doubted their accuracy – he'd probably be a decent opponent, though not one that Schwarze expected would be a credible threat to him.

He was the Black Angel of the Republic, one of the mightiest spellcasters of his generation, produced by a star nation whose domain crossed dimensions. This world, with its measly tech base, poor magic, and general divisiveness would be another stepping stone on the Republic's march of conquest. It would make a decent start on the conquest of this particular dimension.

Queen of Ice and Darkness! He sneered at the thought of how poor the magic of this world was. The raw materiel for mighty magic was here, but the locals almost totally ignored it, dismissing it as 'primitive superstition.' Fools. Willful, ignorant fools. _Well, they'll learn the price of their idiocy soon._

The champions of this place were the only major threat to the coming ground forces. Oh, no doubt the yokel military would put up a spirited fight – they always did, when they were fighting for their homes – but the dogfaces would sort them out. It was the champions, these 'Senshi,' who were a threat, and there would be glory in destroying them.

Engel Schwarze was not one for sharing glory.

_Well, _he thought, drawing his Focus from its belt clip, and expanding it to Staff Form, _nothing to do now but draw them out._

"Sirol," he said, addressing the AI of his Focus, "Any signs that they're scrying us?"

**No sir**_**,**_said the AI telepathicaly. **The only scrying I have detected for the last few hours is from the RNS **_**Samaris**_** in orbit. I assume you still want me to shield us from their attempts to locate you?**

"Absolutely, Sirol. Mage-Captain Kars means well, but we won't need his support for this. Passive charge situation?"

**Optimal. There continue to be few if any forces drawing upon the local Aether; I have unrestricted access.**

Schwarze's smile grew. "Excellent. Well then, my friend, let's draw some attention to ourselves."

-------------------

Setsuna Mioh, if pressed, would grudgingly admit that she did not get an unpleasant or dangerous vibe from Hellboy. If pressed further, she'd admit to finding him almost... charming. He – and despite her prejudices she could not think of Hellboy as an _it_ howevermuch she wanted to – had a simple, humble manner. He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care and occasionally struggling with the Japanese, but he was just so damned personable. His dry sense of humor even extracted some laughs from her and the other Outer Senshi. Haruka and Michiru were starting to warm to him, and Hotaru had taken to him almost immediately.

It helped that Chibi-Usa had recognized him and seemed to regard him as a friend, though something in her manner suggested that she didn't expect to meet him yet. That was not a detail destined to warm the hearts of anyone conversant with the concepts of time travel or paradox, but it was somewhat curbed by the fact that she seemed to find his presence a comfort and had urged Setsuna to work with him to figure this out.

For his part, Hellboy seemed rather bemused by the attentions of the pink-haired youth.

They were gathered in Setsuna's living room – the Outer's informal HQ – and going over a map of the city. Hellboy had gotten up to speed quite quickly and was currently trying to find a pattern in the enemy attacks. He'd been unsuccessful so far, but he had some ideas, and had run through several of them. It was helpful to have another viewpoint on the problem, especially one so surprisingly knowledgeable and professional as Hellboy's. The conversation was turning towards the Time Gates, though thankfully none of the girls were mentioning them by name.

"Okay, so normally you have some method of learning about attacks in advance, correct?"

Setsuna said, "We do, though I hope you'll forgive me if I decline to give you the details."

"Fair enough. So it is not working on these attacks. Has it ever not worked before?"

"No it hasn't."

There was a moment if thoughtful silence, then Michiru said, "Actually... it has failed to show us some things. Remember, when the TSAB first arrived a few months ago and it threw everything out of place?"

Setsuna was quiet for a long moment, nodding. "Well, yes, but in the end that was not an attack."

Hellboy rubbed his chin with his flesh hand thoughtfully. "Do you know why it threw things out of place?"

"Not entirely. I believe because the TSAB are not native to this dimension or to dimensions that are, for lack of a better term, connected to it. And when they were here their ship was heavily warded against scrying. The Youma are much like those we've faced in the past, so unless the ones directing them..."

There was a long, painful silence as the penny dropped. Setsuna found her voice first. "Unless the ones directing the attacks are not from this dimension, or they _are_ warded. If they aren't here at all, then we wouldn't be able to predict their actions."

Hellboy nodded. "That makes some sense. Now, what do we do about that?"

There was a long moment of silence as the gathered Senshi tried to think of a good response. They were interrupted by a large explosion elsewhere in the city.

"What was that?" shouted Haruka, running to the window. Hellboy was only a step behind her.

Setsuna jumped to the Youma detector. "Nothing here... but I could feel some magic in that blast."

"So could I," said Hotaru.

"This could be one of the directors," said Hellboy, patting down his belt pouches as if checking for his equipment as he walked to where he'd hung up his leather duster. "Let's go make him feel welcome."

* * *

Ranma Saotome had spent most of the evening at the hospital. After visiting hours ended, he decamped from Nabiki's room to a ledge outside. He wasn't sure how he felt about the situation, only that he wished he'd moved quicker, somehow stopped her getting hurt in the first place. Not letting Akane spar with her lept to mind, but that had the flaw of not being a good way to help Akane learn. Niggling annoyingly at the back of his mind was the kicker: his father hadn't been entirely wrong about the way he'd set up the training.

Ranma was in a bad mood. As places to brood go, a hospital is well and truly one of the best, as they are full of people in poor health who are miserable and are tended by more miserable people. He'd been brooding for a few hours now, watching the city slow down for the evening, mood slightly lifted by the setting sun.

So it should come as no real surprise that his initial reaction to a large explosion a few blocks away was eagerness. Who or whatever had just created that explosion had more or less volunteered to let Ranma pound away until he felt better. The part of his mind that tried to strive for maturity quietly pointed out that this was not a healthy way to deal with stress. But at the moment, he didn't much care. Ranma launched off the hospital roof in a ballistic arc, going for altitude. The best thing about flight, in his opinion, was the way it let you damn near always have the high ground going into a fight.

_Ranma? _asked Pluto's mental voice, _Where are you?_

_ Heading for that explosion. It was way too close to the hospital for my taste. _His flight took him over a skyscraper, giving him line of sight to the blast area. _I'm near it now. I think I see our guy. Some guy in midair glowing blue._

_ We'll be along shortly._

_ Gotcha. I'll get started._

The glowing man was holding some kind of polearm and taking potshots at random civilians in the street below. Smoke billowed from the front of one building, obscuring part of the area. Ranma aimed for the center of the guy's back, killed his flight, and dropped. A flying kick was so much better from a hundred feet up.

Over the sound of alarms, screams, and the howl of the wind, Ranma could hear the guy laughing. He was _enjoying_ scaring the hell out of those people! Time to fix his little red wagon... "_Shooting Star Kick!"_ shouted Ranma, aiming for the bastard's left shoulder.

The bastard looked up in surprise, reacted by instinct. _"Panzer Wall!"_

A disk of brilliant blue energy formed between them, and it took the force of Ranma's kick head on, pushing the bastard down half a dozen feet. Off balance, Ranma couldn't get too much rebound off the kick, but managed to land himself on top of a car about twenty feet away from him. He and his foe surveyed each other across the gap.

His foe was wearing a dark blue trench coat over black slacks and shirt, fingerless gloves, and combat boots. Purple eyes, brownish hair, weird little beardy-thing, and a hearteningly shocked expression. A long, ornate staff held in his left hand; the haft made of dull brass or something of the same colour with a fist sized blue gem embedded at one end.

After a moment, the stranger said, "I'm impressed. You managed to get close without my noticing."

"I'm good at that, asshole. Who are you and what are you doin' in my town?"

The bastard grinned widely. "My name is Engel Schwarze, and I am the man who is going to kill you. You're Ranma Saotome, the shapeshifter, right?"

Ranma's eyes narrowed. "How do you know who I am?"

"I have my ways. I don't know what kind of mage you are, but I do know that I will beat you. No offense, but I'm not going to let you survive the night." The staff shot forward, gem glowing with inner fire. _"Aether Shot!"_

Ranma dodged the blast without thinking, replied with one of his own. _"Moko Takabisha!"_ Schwarze caught it with another damnable shield. Another blue bolt flew from Schwarze's staff, and again Ranma dodged it. He darted forward, aimed a kick at the mage's head. Once more his foot impacted a shield; this time Ranma had a good enough view to see that the thing was ringed with some kind of heavy, gothic script.

"That's a good trick."

"So is yours. I admit I'm curious, what kind of spell do you use to put so much power into a physical attack?"

Ranma was temporarily boggled. "Are you seriously asking me to explain how I fight in the middle of a fight?"

Schwarze's grin could only be described as predatory. "Of course. You won't be alive once the fight's over, so I won't have another chance."

Ranma dodged a blast, replied with a point-blank Moko Takabisha. "We'll see about that. You ain't so hot, 'cept fer this shield."

"A good defense forgives many sins." His expression betrayed a moment of frustration as Ranma dodged yet another shot. "Something you seem to take to heart. Impressively quick."

"You ain't seen fast yet, pal." Ranma poured on the speed for a moment, darting inside the mage's shield and landing a hefty blow to his stomach. Schwarze's breath left him in a loud whoof of air, then the black-clad mage shot skyward.

"I'll admit, I walked into that one," he said, slightly breathless. _"Aether Volley!" _A rapid stream of blue bolts shot down, and Ranma dodged around them for a moment.

Ranma's mind raced. _Shields, blasts, some kinda body armor... it's like fighting a TSAB guy, but worse. This guy's toying with me._ His teeth gritted. He disliked being toyed with. "Yer not gonna walk fer a week when I'm done with ya! Me an' my buddies are gonna kick yer ass." Ranma shouted, eyes darting around the street seeking anything that might give him an advantage. An errant blast split a car in two; Ranma mentally kicked his guestimate of the stranger's power up a notch.

"An interesting boast from the man without friends."

"They'll be along. They like this place more'n I do." Ki blasts hadn't done much against this guy's shield, so Ranma decided to take a shot at Firebending. A quick volley of fire blasts had no more luck than his Moko Takabishas, though Ranma noted that Schwarze still broke off his own attack to get up a shield. _You ain't sure how much you can take with just the armor, huh? That might come in useful._

_ "Dead Scream!"_ A bolt of magic, hastily blocked, announced the arrival of the cavalry.

Schwarze turned, smiled. "Well, here they are. Now things can really get started. And you have another friend I didn't know about already! It's my lucky day."

Ranma glanced over. The Outer Senshi were fanning out across the street, trying to flank the flying mage. Behind them was a hulking red figure. _Uh Pluto?_ Ranma sent, _You appear to have a Red Oni following you._

_ He's with us, don't worry._

_ I ain't worried, just makin' sure. _Satisfied that the Oni was at least nominally friendly, Ranma turned his attention back to Schwarze. "Yer luck just ran out, pal." Ranma eschewed his dodging for a straightforward charge, rocketing into the air towards the black-clad mage.

_ "Aether Volley Enhanced!"_ Eight bolts of royal-blue energy spiraled away from him, converged on Ranma. The aquatransexual spun around them, opened his mouth to shout some mockery at his foe for the miss. Then the bolts reversed direction and blasted into him from behind.

Ranma emerged from the resulting explosion trailing smoke. Weaving through the sky like a drunken comet, he slammed through the windows of a skyscraper. The mage smirked in satisfaction, turned back to the Senshi. "Well, that's one idiot down. Who's next?"

------------

Wasting no time on words, Haruka stepped up. _"Space Sword Blaster!"_

Michiru's _"Deep Submerge!"_ was less than a second behind it. Setsuna noted with some displeasure that both blasts more or less rolled off of some kind of shield spell. Whoever he was, he was potent.

And aggravating. He started laughing. "Not bad, not bad at all, but not enough to work, I'm afraid." He turned his attention to Hotaru and Hellboy. "Unless you two have some surprises?"

Hotaru raised the Silence Glaive into a ready position, then began to gather power. The stranger formed another shield between himself and her.

Taking advantage of his seeming distraction, Haruka bounded onto an awning and into the air, Space Sword held high as she prepared to strike. The mage shifted with impressive speed, parrying her downward stroke with the haft of his weapon and catching a blast from Michiru on his shield. He laughed the whole while, as though this were the greatest game he'd played in months.

There was a resounding BOOM as Hellboy fired his revolver. The massive slug hit the flying mage in the small of the back, just off center, and twisted him around. He clawed for altitude, spinning his shield to intercept Hellboy's follow-up shots, laughter chopping off as five rounds boomed out and _spang_ed harmlessly off of his shield. The American Demon frowned as he popped open the revolver and felt for reloads with the fingers not holding the gun. He was muttering something as he dove for cover.

The mage recovered from his surprise. Laughing he asked, "A chemical powered slugthrower? That's _it?_ Gods below, for a moment I thought I was in trouble." He shook his head. "Ladies, your pet is downright useless. The Black Angel will not be felled by some mere slugthrower."

"Good to know," said Haruka, as she sent another blast downrange. Her lover, moved to a flanking position, did the same, and the damnable shield caught that too.

He spawned another shield to catch Setsuna's own blast, holding off their attacks with ease. He then started snapping off counter attacks, drifting almost lazily down the block. Setsuna frowned. The arrogant bastard's shield was good, but if they could coax him down a little more, he'd be in Hotaru's reach...

-------------

Hellboy pounded down the alley, hooves raising sparks. The lead rounds had done a big fat nothing to this joker's protective magic, but he'd definitely felt the first shot. Even the best body armor didn't keep you from feeling the impact, even if it kept a round from penetrating. Reloading a revolver one-handed wasn't easy, but it was necessary – his stone hand did not do well with objects even as slightly breakable as the Samaritan. He had a few long ranged tricks up his sleeve, and if the guy was stupid enough to let himself touch the ground, he'd be in for a hell of a shock.

Blessed silver rounds loaded – and he'd only burned himself once on the slugs, not bad at all for reloading on the run without looking – Hellboy popped out of the alleys. Laughing Boy had dropped down a ways- encouraging. The big red demon lifted his hand cannon and squeezed off a shot. The silver bullet _spang_ed off a shield the mage snapped up, and then Hellboy dropped and rolled as a magic blast replied. "Lots of points for effort, Red, but really... you're not going to break my shields like _that._"

_Okay, blessed silver's no good either. What else do I got here..._

_------------_

Schwarze was enjoying himself. One foe down, one who had proved himself to be useless, and one who hadn't made an attack. The girl with the spear was undeniably powerful, but she was either unable or unwilling to make an attack, and he was ignoring her for the moment. A stalking horse was only effective if one payed attention to it.

The female mages were trying to flank him, but he kept moving. They didn't seem to be able to fly, which let him dictate the pace of the battle. And as it stood, they seemed to have realized that trying to blast him head-on was futile. They still took the occasional potshot, but that was only to be expected. He took the occasional shot himself back.

"Honestly, ladies, I'd expected a better fight than this."

The one with the sword snarled, "We're so sorry to disappoint you." She sent another blast his way.

He gave in to the urge to laugh when their pet demon popped out from behind a groundcar. "Full points for effort, Red, but seriously..." He doubted a slugthrower could punch through his body armor but, well, it didn't cover everything, and besides, he hadn't lived this long by trusting passive defenses when he could use active ones. _"Panzer Wall."_

Six bullets blasted forth in rapid succession, cleaving through his shield like it was no more substantial than tissue paper and slamming into his body armor. Air _whoof_ing out of him, he dropped to the pavement like a poleaxed steer.

--------------

Hellboy smiled, cracked the Samaritan open for a reload. "I love cold iron. Ain't a magic I've ever seen that stands up to it."

The mage picked himself up, a manic expression on his face. The gem at the end of his staff glowed and a web of gothic script wove around the end of the thing. Hellboy hunched back, putting as much of himself behind his stone hand as possible, and muttered, "Oh, crap."

The mage completed his spell. _"Aether Cannon Blast!"_

A wave of blue power blasted out from the tip of the bastard's staff. It lanced towards Hellboy and broke against the Right Hand of Doom, washed around him and slammed him back into, and through, the front of a building.

------------

Hotaru had been waiting for her chance, and now she had it. This 'Black Angel' had been careful to avoid getting inside her reach, but Hellboy's shots had brought him down. And, more to the point, he hadn't realized that just yet. With a fleeting thought to Hellboy's safety, she charged, felt power gather into the Silence Glaive. The air around her gained a greasy feel like the start of a thunderstorm.

The black-clad mage noticed her approach a moment too late, unable to dodge the Silence Glaive as it descended like the judgement of a wrathful god.

_"Silence Glaive Surprise!"_

_ "Panzer Bunker!"_

Weapon met shield in an explosion of light and power that bathed the street in its glow.

-----------

Setsuna had to look away from the blast of light to save her sight. After a long moment it cleared, and Setsuna suppressed the urge to swear when she saw the aftermath of the Senshi of Ruin and Rebirth's attack. Haruka apparently felt the same urge and decided not to suppress it.

The foreign mage had thrown up another shield, this one so thick and dark that it was nearly opaque. Clearly it was intended to be a square, and about six feet in height. The Silence Glaive was embedded in it, having carved a gouge almost three feet deep into the shield wall. The Black Angel was sprawled on the ground, one hand glowing as he held it towards the shield, overcoat in tatters and bleeding from a few minor cuts.

The shield collapsed, as he rose into the air once more, laughing uproariously. "That was impressive. I must say, little girl, my hat is off to you. I never suspected _anyone_ on this mudball could come up with something like that." Power glowed at the tip of his staff. "But now I fear you have to die." He readied another blast. Hotaru gathered power as if to shield herself. _"Aether Cannon Blast!"_

A rose flew from nowhere and struck the glowing tip of the staff, knocking the blast off aim and causing it to carve a furrow in the blacktop halfway across the street from its target. The foreign mage looked up at a nearby rooftop, from whence the rose came. "Who in the five hells are _you?_"

Setsuna smiled as Mamoru Chiba replied, "I am Tuxedo Mask, and I will not allow you to harm these fair maidens. Who are you who dares to attack this place?"

"I am Engel Schwarze, Enforcer of the Dimensional Republic of Bradeson, and the man who is going to kill you all. Your shapeshifter is dead, your pet is dead, and I think you just volunteered to die next!" A bolt of blue magic lanced towards Mamoru, who managed, albeit barely, to dodge. "And seriously! A rose? What in the hells do you think you could do with _that_ as a weapon?"

"Distract you."

Schwarze seemed about to reply when he suddenly dropped out of the sky. Appearing as if from no-where, Ranma Saotome was behind him, one arm locked across the mage's neck, the other across his eyes. The stranger spouted something quite probably profane as the two crashed down. Ranma rolled into a crouch and tackled the sprawling mage again, this time getting both hands on the man's staff weapon.

Setsuna was a few steps behind Haruka and Michiru as they charged in. As they closed in, Setsuna realized that Ranma was favouring one leg slightly- his left leg seemed oddly stiff and it looked as if he'd tied his belt very tight around the calf. That didn't seem to much mater, though, as he quickly yanked the staff out of Schwarze's hands and shot skyward again. "Wonder if I can figure this toy out?"

The mage took flight in pursuit of the martial artist, this time looking decidedly unsteady. "I doubt it, you indig savage. You can't even use proper magic!"

Ranma nodded, an expression of false sorrow on his face. "Yeah, ki just ain't the same. Guess I'll settle for kickin' your ass with your own magic stick." Blistering fast, he jabbed Schwarze in the midsection with the outstretched staff, wound up for a hefty swing – but the mage managed another of his shields at the last moment.

"None of that, you cheeky bastard! Sirol! Anti-theft countermeasures!"

**Yes Sir.**

Blue lightning crackled up and down the length of the staff, and Ranma yelped at the sudden pain. He quickly got himself back under control, however, and grabbed for altitude as the mage made a grab for it. He settled on a nearby roof, glancing around the street as if looking for something.

From behind, Setsuna heard a moan and a complicated sound of shifting bricks. Glancing, she saw Hellboy extricating himself from the pile of rubble into which he had been blown. His clothes were tattered, but he drew himself to his massive height and moved up beside Hotaru. "Gonna be sore in the mornin..." he muttered.

He did not go unnoticed. "What does it take to kill you people?" asked Schwarze angrily.

"More'n ya'd think," said Ranma, his smirk growing. "You're fond of this stick, ain't ya?" Spinning in place, he shifted his grip on the staff, threw it down to the street. "Big Red! Think fast!"

The throw was perfectly aimed, and Hellboy's reactions were swift, catching the staff out of the air with his flesh hand as Schwarze shouted, "No!"

"This bit looks important," Hellboy said as he gripped the blue gemstone in the Right Hand of Doom – and squeezed. There was a sound like a glacier calving and a burst if blue light, then the staff abruptly disintegrated.

**"NO!"** shouted Schwarze, angrily, and he whirled upon Ranma once more.

* * *

"Mage-Captain Kars? I just found him. It looks like he had some kind of anti-scrying ward up, but it's just vanished."

"Good," Kars grunted. "Teleport that idiot straight to the brig. I'll have his hide for this stunt."

* * *

For a moment, Ranma was surprised into inaction. Was this guy seriously trying to take a swing at him?

That split second's hesitation gained Schwarze no respite. He might have been hot shit with magic, but when it came to hand-to-hand combat, well, he was an idiot. In a flash, Ranma had the punching hand twisted up behind its owner's back, and the owner face-first on the rooftop. Ignoring the shooting pains in his leg, Ranma knelt on the mage's back, putting enough weight down to keep the guy pinned.

The Outer Senshi, launching themselves from ground level, quickly landed around him, as did Tuxedo Mask. Ranma glanced up, grinning. "Anybody got somethin' we can use ta tie this joker up?"

From street level rose a shout of "One second! Okay, catch!"

Tuxedo Mask, closest to the edge of the roof, leaned out for a moment and snagged something out of the air at the peak of its arc. Waving, he shouted, "Got it!"

The masked man smiled. "Duct tape. Americans." He shook his head as he walked towards Ranma. "Think this will do the trick?"

"Worth a shot." Schwarze tried to twist away from Ranma, who responded by rabbit-punching him in the kidneys. "Oh no ya don't. We got some questions for ya."

"Go to hell, you bastard!"

"Well, when ya ask so nice..."

Abruptly, Schwarze's form rippled with green light, and he vanished. Ranma, weight pressing on a body that was no longer there, toppled forward into an awkward sprawl, wincing at the pains it shot up his leg. "What the?"

The Senshi were looking around wildly, trying to spot their foe. Ranma gritted his teeth and pushed his own ki senses outward. Other than the Senshi – and he was fairly sure, now, who was who despite their magical crap – and the Oni, he felt nothing but other humans, most seeming to wonder if the explosions were stopping.

Odd Oni, now that he thought about it. His ki was almost human in some ways and very _not_ in others – especially one hand, around and through which swirled energy that almost hurt to look at. There was a series of clangs as the Oni climbed what Ranma assumed was a fire escape. As the Oni pulled himself up to the roof, Ranma waved.

The fight over, his adrenaline rush was fading fast, and with it his energy. Ranma sat heavily, injured leg throbbing. "Anybody got a clue how he did that?"

"There are a few ways he might have..." began Pluto. "Are you all right?" She was looking at his leg.

By reflex, Ranma denied any problem. "It looks worse than it is. Got cut up when I went through that window, but I got a tourniquet on it in time."

He tried to stand, but couldn't quite manage on the first try. The attempt was punctuated by a throb matching the tempo of his pulse from the leg. Another try did little better. Gritting his teeth and mentally stomping on his pride, he said, "I could use a hand to the hospital, though."

"No need," said Saturn as she knelt beside him. Soothing, healing energy radiated from her and he felt flesh knit almost instantly under its touch.

"Thanks," Ranma said. "I forgot you.. could.. do..." he trailed off, gaze unfocusing. Then he faceplamed. "Uh, do you do housecalls?"

-----------------

Dr. Ono Takari had seen many strange processions in his years at Tokyo General. In the thirty years he had practiced medicine, Japan had changed a great deal, with a manic intensity that most other nations seemed unnerved by. But a demon, several of the Sailor Senshi, and a martial artist whose pants appeared to be soaked in blood was quite possibly the strangest. The martial artist had been in earlier, visiting one of his patients, and had asked remarkably politely(given his general sarcasm earlier) if they could go up now, despite it being well after visiting hours.

He was not inclined to deny a friend of such fine protectors of the city as the Senshi, especially when they were along themselves.

As it was past visiting hours, he waited at the doorway to the hospital room in question, as a formality. There was a brief, muted conversation between the martial artist and the patient, one Nabiki Tendo, and then one of the Senshi began to glow.

Almost instantly, the minor, but noticable, hitch in Tendo's breathing was gone, and she sat up with an energy that the anesthetic she had been given an hour previously should have denied, hands probing at her ribs. After a moment, she half bowed and murmered something to the Senshi.

Ono pushed his way through the crowd. "What have you done to my patient?"

The Senshi said, "I healed her, sir."

Tendo said, "Ranma, you've been working with the Senshi for what, two weeks now?"

"Uh, yeah."

Tone poisonously sweet, Tendo continued. "And you didn't ask your friend for this before _why?_"

"'Cause I ain't used to knowin' someone who can do this an' I totally forgot about it."

"We'll settle up for this later, Ranma." She stood, bowed properly to the Senshi, and made as if to leave. "Thank you again, miss."

Dr. Takari said, "I think it would be best for you to stay the night just in case." A small bow of his own to the Senshi, "I cast no aspersions, but this _is_ highly irregular. If for nothing else, there would be much less paperwork to wait for normal hours."

"No offence taken," said the healer, smiling faintly. "I am glad I could help."

Another of the Senshi said, "I think we should be going. We have much to discuss."

* * *

They'd decamped to Setsuna's place again, gathered around the living room and lost in thought. Hellboy dominated the couch without trying. Normally he didn't feel all that self conscious about his size, but in Japan the difference was more... pronounced. He was running the battle through his head over and over again. It had been hectic – fighting stuff he couldn't lay hands on was a regal pain in the tukus.

And he'd been impressed by his allies. He hadn't caught everything- digging oneself out from under a heap of brick did that – but what he'd seen was damned good. He'd be updating the BPRD's profiles on the lot of them when he got home. And writing a full-bore report on Saotome. They'd had little on the guy prior to this – reports of poor academic performance and a list of infractions and discipline problems as long as your average table from his school, some rumors about wild martial arts, and nothing else. He'd been a big unknown. He was still mostly an unknown, but one definitely worth studying.

A powerhouse with all the stubborn determination of a rottweiler. Hellboy could appreciate that. A small smirk: _much like myself._

Michiru walked in from the kitchen again, carrying drinks. She hadn't missed much, everyone had been keeping their own council. And it looked like they were keeping to that. Well, someone had to break the ice, so why not him? If he gave offense he could always play the 'ignorant gaijin' card.

"So. Our friend with the goatee said he was from something called a 'Dimensional Republic of Bradeson.' Anyone heard of that before? Or anything like it?"

The Senshi shook their heads, save for the little pipsqueak with the pink hair. She was looking more and more unnerved by the situation. Mamoru shook his head as well, but absently. He was watching pink hair and looking unnerved himself.

Ranma waited a moment, then piped up, "I ain't heard of 'em before specifically, but somethin' about the name, an' the way the guy fought, reminded me a' the TSAB. They pop around time an' dimensions an' stuff." He shrugged, frowning. "Don't know the mechanics of it, I ain't a magic kinda guy, but that's what he reminded me of."

"The TSAB mages, could they travel on their own?" Setsuna sounded both concerned and curious.

Ranma shook his head. "Not 'tween planets an' stuff. They have ships for that."

"So laughing boy probably came on a ship, too." Hellboy frowned. "Even bet he's got friends close by."

"Yeah. An' they hauled him back, I bet." Ranma paused, trying to find the words. "The green flashy thing, that wasn't somethin' he was doin'. Somebody else did it to him."

Setsuna sighed. "So by now they almost certainly know what happened to him, and what we're capable of."

Haruka shook her head. "So whoever comes in next will about Ranma's invisibility trick, our spells, Hellboy's crazy gun that can blow through a shield we can't... how _did_ you manage that, by the way?"

Hellboy dug into his pouch and produced another speedloader. "Cold Iron bullets. They work best with faerie magic, but they tend to blow through any magic they run into." He handed the speedloader to Haruka, who examined them. "I don't have that many, though. Forgin' the things, or working 'em with anything more than hand tools stops it being cold iron."

"So they just, what, beat the things into shape with hammers?"

"More or less." A shrug. "Though based on his reaction, I doubt he had any idea what the hell I did."

"Or me," said Ranma. "He said a couple times he didn't know what I was up to. Called me a shapeshifter at first."

"Well, to be fair..." said Michiru, splashing him with a glass of water. Ranma gave her an annoyed look.

The redhead continued after a moment. "Well, okay, sure, he's technically right about that, but it ain't nothin' I do."

"Jusenkyo?" asked Hellboy.

"Yeah. How'd ya know?"

"One of our agents checked the place out a couple years back."

"Did he fall in or something?"

"Yeah. Spring of Drowned Girl."

"Ouch. My sympathies."

"It more or less worked out. His wife's pretty open-minded."

There was a brief, awkward silence as Ranma's face turned a very interesting shade of red.

Haruka began to chuckle. "Nothing wrong with that, Saotome."

"Sure. Of course. But not really important right now."

"You're right, we do need to figure out what to do about this."

Ranma and Setsuna exchanged glances, both of their expressions suggesting supreme distaste. The Senshi of Time spoke first. "I think at this point we're officially in over our heads. We need to call in re-enforcements."

"You mean the TSAB?" asked Haruka.

"Yes. That Schwarze fellow very nearly beat us alone, and he presumably has comrades with him."

Ranma looked like she'd just taken a bite of something bitter and vile. "Yer' probably right. Guh. I hate the idea, but yer' right." She growled, one hand curling into a tight fist. "I just wish we knew what was gonna happen."

The Senshi collectively exchanged a glance. Hellboy, familiar with groups that had been working together so long they were damn near telepathic, caught the significance of that glance. Especially when their little pink-haired friend didn't share it. His suspicion was confirmed when they seemed to come to a decision, and all turned towards her.

Little Usa quailed under the attention for a moment, then blurted out, "I know what you wanna know! You want me to tell you what happens!"

"Well, yes," said Michiru. "You're from our future, you should know. And right now, we need that information."

Usa began to sob. "But... But... I _don't_ know what's gonna happen. This summer was supposed to be _totally boring!_ You weren't supposed to see Ranma again 'till mama got home an' he gave back the detector! You weren't supposed to meet Hellboy at all for another -" she chopped the sentence off there, shooting Hellboy an apologetic look. "I'm not supposed to talk about that, sorry, I just... _I don't know what's going to happen!_ None of this is supposed to be happening!"

Ranma said, "Hey kiddo, calm down, it'll be fine. I'm sure I ain't the only one here good at dealin' with surprises, an' we're gonna call in some heavy hitting backup. We'll be fine."

Setsuna put one arm around the crying girl. "We'll beat this. We will. It would be easier if we knew what was going to happen, but since we don't, we'll just have to improvise." She glanced towards Ranma, who nodded.

"Where do ya keep your communicator dealie? The one I got fer callin' in is back in Nerima."

Haruka stood. "I'll show you." The two left the room.

Hellboy considered following them. Strictly speaking, his bosses would probably appreciate him doing so if only to get a look at what he presumed was TSAB gear. On the other hand, the poor kid looked terrified and his tough, red, demonic exterior hid a very soft heart and he purely hated to see a kid that scared.

Especially since, unlike many, this kid seemed to like him. "It'll be okay, kiddo. I got some friends to call too. The cavalry is a-comin'."

There was a shout from upstairs. "Setsuna! We got a problem!" Ranma bounded down the stairs. "The communicator ain't workin'. We're bein' jammed."

-------------------

Mage-Admiral Konrad Kallson stood at the main tactical station on the RNS _Admiral Anson_, speed reading _Samaris' _download. The scouting cruiser had, for the most part, done a fine job. They'd misplaced one of their Enforcers, but that wasn't entirely unexpected. Enforcers tended to be willful mavericks, a trait that made them both valuable to the Service and utterly maddening for those they worked with.

Most of his expeditionary force had arrived with him in the last two hours, keeping themselves under cloak and out of sight. Kallson hoped to keep them hidden until the rest of the expeditionary force arrived – the troop transport _Siege of Tesephony_ had suffered drive damage, and she and her escorts were left behind to catch up at best speed. With a little luck his entire force would be assembled in – he checked the last report – another fifty-seven hours. Remembering the relevant part of the report, he did some quick math. Not quite fifty-five local hours. Something to remember when he decided how he wanted to deal with this planet.

And that was going to depend a lot on what happened with _Samaris' _errant Enforcer. Though Kallson had never met Schwarze personally, he knew the young enforcer by reputation. Odds were good that he'd tried to take on the local mages mentioned in _Samaris'_ reports. Schwarze was undeniably skilled, and almost as good as he thought he was, so it was possible he would succeed despite five-to-one odds. If he did, and managed to avoid instantly making the local news, they could easily wait for the rest of the fleet and then announce their presence.

If not, Kallson would have to set things in motion rather quicker than he really liked. It should be survivable, assuming the gods were not feeling fickle, to issue the standard ultimatum and have time for _Siege of Tesephony _to arrive – or rather, its ground-pounders. They had, for all intents and purposes, total control of the high orbitals here. While the locals had some weapons that could at least theoretically threaten his ships – atomics were nothing to sneeze at – they lacked any kind of delivery mechanism that he couldn't shoot down with ease.

A comm tech walked over. "Admiral, we have just received a report from _Samaris._ Mage-Captain Kars reports that they have recovered Enforcer Schwarze."

"Very good. Was the young Enforcer successful in his little foray?"

"They do not believe so, sir. When recovered, he was badly injured. He is currently being treated before a full debriefing."

Kallson suppressed the urge to sigh, nodded. "All right. Please ask Mage-Captain Kars to report as soon as he has additional information. For now, continue to monitor the planetary information networks. I want to know what they do about this."

"Yes, Admiral."

He looked back to the report, more to mask his racing thoughts than to study it. If the Enforcer came back in bad shape, it was even odds that the locals knew _something_ was up.

After a few minutes he mentally shrugged and returned his attention to the report properly, reading more closely the information it contained about local forces. Another comm tech cleared her throat behind him to get his attention.

"Yes, Midshipwoman?"

"Sir, we've discovered something on the local comm nets. Lieutenant Fischer believes it to be important."

Fischer was seldom wrong on counts like that. Kallson nodded, followed the Middy back to her station. He and the Lieutenant exchanged nods.

"We found this on a news site. From the time chops, it was only posted a few minutes ago."

What they'd found was a video, one that looked to have been taken with some kind of low quality, handheld camera, that showed Enforcer Schwarze in battle with several yokel mages. The audio was poor, the sounds of alarms muffling the words of the fighters, but they could still make out Schwarze's voice as he proudly declared who he was and whom he fought for. Already there were paragraphs of speculation about what a Dimensional Republic of Bradeson was, and what they might want.

"How official is this news site?"

"It seems to be mostly unofficial, but from _Samaris_'s reports, it sounds like anything that hits these unofficial pages makes the official ones not long after, they mostly seem to want to confirm things first."

"Reasonable. Not helpful for us, but reasonable." He paused, absently rubbing at his goatee. The proverbial cat was quite likely out of the bag at this point. He now had to figure out the best way to salvage the situation.

-------------

The transmission broke in over every broadcast on earth, relayed to the opposite side of the world via a few other ships in the expeditionary force. It blanked out the evening news in Japan, overrode the BBC's noon news in England, interrupted the morning news in North America. An audio version overrode comercial radio, civilian bands, and most military radio at the same time. It was accompanied by the orbiting fleet dropping their cloaks, setting off alarms at skywatch posts and military installations around the world.

For the first hour or so, it was denounced as some sort of prank, albeit a massively complex and well executed one. After that, however, visual sightings with telescopes, and radar telemetry began to confirm that there was in fact a fleet in orbit, and the first wave of mass panic began. The panic was spurred three hours after the transmission, when the DRB fleet enacted the first phase of its ultimatum.

It was a simple message, and to the point.

"This is Mage-Admiral Konrad Kallson in command of the Eighth Fleet of the Dimensional Republic of Bradeson to all of Earth's military and political leaders. Our ships are positioned in orbit around your world and we declare it a protectorate of the Republic. You can surrender and join us, or we will take your world by force of arms. We require an unconditional surrender from every major political leader on your world or we will take it by force of arms. You have three local days to respond. You also have three hours to suspend any and all air traffic. Any aircraft violating this ban will be destroyed."

"Your world belongs to the Dimensional Republic of Bradeson now. All that remains to be seen is how much of it will be destroyed before you accept that."


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I own none of the 'verses this tale wanders through. This story is intended purely for my entertainment and hopefully yours as well. I'm far, far too broke to be worth suing._

-Chapter 12-

Usagi was trying to concentrate, and failing.

She'd been having trouble concentrating for the last few days – blast Subaru and Teana and their putting weird ideas in her head – but today was worse. She had a strange, niggling feeling that something was wrong, but she couldn't figure out what.

Worse, the others seemed to be having the same problem. Come to think of it, Minako had been troubled as well lately. _Probably the same reason as me, _she thought, remembering the Crescent Compact. And Rei had been a bit off yesterday, though not previously.

Nanoha seemed almost annoyed with them. They'd been doing so well, and yet today they were acting like a bunch of amateurs. She tried to get them to snap out of it with a few tactical problems, but to no avail. Finally, irritated, she called for a break.

"What's bothering you today, ladies?" she asked.

Rei put down her drink. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but I have the strangest feeling that something's very wrong back home."

Usagi started. "That's what I've been feeling too... Has there been any word from Setsuna and the Outers?"

Nanoha looked over her charges. They were looking, if anything, more distracted and worried. Little whispers seemed to indicate that they were all wondering more or less the same thing. "As far as I know, there hasn't been any contact from them. The assumption is that they would only contact us if there was a problem."

"Could you call them anyway? Just to check?"

"Certainly. I'll put in a request."

-----------

A few hours later, Nanoha stopped by the Academy Comm room. She didn't recognize the tech on duty, but he of course recognized her. "Good afternoon. I put in a comm request a few hours ago, has it gone through?"

"Instructor Takamachi! Uh, let me check." He busied himself for a moment, paging through his files. "It looks like an attempt was made but the contact didn't go through."

Nanoha frowned. "No answer, or no connection?"

"It doesn't say."

"Can you try to get through again?" She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Something about this, she did not like.

The tech hesitated a moment, then said, "Well, sure. One moment." He worked his console for a moment. "Aaaand... message sent. We should get a response in a minute or two." They made small talk as they waited, filling time. Nanoha could tell that the lad was one of her fans, and that he was barely managing to stop himself from geeking out. It was actually kind of cute, though Nanoha had seen it before many, many times. She honestly preferred it to the reaction she drew from field agents or marines, especially those she trained.

She might not follow the same path to power as her family, but some of the family traditions of instruction crossed over well.

After a few minutes, the tech glanced at his panel. "That's odd."

"Oh?"

"Well, if nothing else, it should have switched over to 'standby- connection established' by now. It's been long enough for a message to hit the receiver and send back the arrival code." The young man's fingers danced over the console. "Huh."

"Could it be waiting for the Senshi to reply?"

"No, it should have given us a signal that the message arrived. Aaaand we just hit the point were the transmission has officially timed out." He started up a diagnostic. "I don't think it's a problem on our end but..."

"Are there any aether storms in that region that might be causing interference?"

"Didn't see any in the morning report... And there's nothing wrong on this end."

Nanoha frowned. This did not strike her as a good thing. "There are other communicators on Earth, can you try and reach one of them?"

"Earth?" the tech glanced over, confused for a moment. "Oh, right, you come from there." He returned to his console. "Sorry, not used to checking local names for the Unadministered Worlds."

"That's fair enough."

"Yeah, database says there's two others. Gil Graham's and some reservist named Saotome. Weird name."

"He's another Earther. Can you try to contact them?"

"Already sent a query." A shrug. "Here's hoping." The two waited in unnerved silence. Finally, both comm requests timed out. "Oh, that's probably not good." The tech bent over his board. "I still can't see anything that looks like it would mess up a signal, not in these reports."

Nanoha rose. "Thank you for your help."

"Anytime. If you figure out what's going on, please let me know."

------------

Nanoha wasted no time in heading for Chrono's office. She seldom pulled rank, or called in favours from her more highly-placed friends, but the situation had her stomach roiling. Two things niggled especially: The other Senshi had implied that Rei Hino possessed some sort of divination abilities, and the magic the Senshi practiced had grown by leaps and bounds under her tutelage. Rei had been on edge for at least the last two days.

Nanoha's instincts told her that this added up to problems back home. She had not survived her years as a field agent without learning to trust those instincts.

Chrono's secretary took one look at Nanoha's expression and sent her straight in. She caught a quiet mutter about 'the White Devil' and ignored it. She'd been called worse.

"Nanoha, what's wrong?" asked Chrono, cutting to the heart of the matter. He recognized her expression.

"I suspect there might be a problem on Earth. I can't get any message through."

"You wouldn't be here if that was all."

"No. Your initial report on the Senshi said that they believed they derive their strength from the worlds they named themselves after, that they have a connection of sorts to them. They suspect something is wrong. My instincts tell me they're right."

Chrono rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking hard. "Your instincts are good. Saved my life a few times back in the day." He turned to his console. "I assume you checked more than just the Senshi's transmitter?"

"Yes, I tried the Senshi, Agent Saotome, and Gil Graham. The signals didn't get through."

Chrono was going over a dimensional map. "All three being out at once is too much of a co-incidence for my taste. All right, we've got a courier boat in the region, I'll re-direct them to take a look."

* * *

"So this is the situation, everyone," began Tom Manning, kicking off the BPRD's staff meeting. "Whoever these people are, they mean business. They've shot down several hundred aircraft that we know of, probably more that we haven't heard about yet. Lafayette AFB tried to put a B-2 Spirit in the air and they popped it on the runway without apparently trying hard, and one of the planes they got in the first pass was a SR-71 Blackbird doing mach 3. At this point, the Pentagon is assuming these people will continue to shoot down anyone or anything in the air and they've had the FAA ground all aircraft in the United States. They don't seem to be interdicting sea or ground traffic, but air travel is a total no-go."

"Do we have a casualty estimate?" asked Kate Corrigan, the BPRD's 'Enhanced Talent' liaison.

"Not yet." Manning's voice was very flat. At least twenty of the aircraft shot down had been passenger airliners. The casualty numbers, when they were tallied, were almost certainly going to be atrocious.

Manning paused for a moment, making sure his department heads were keeping up. "Their ships seem evenly distributed around the globe, and they don't seem to be doing much but orbit unless someone tries to put a plane in the air. According to the briefing I got from Washington an hour ago, a few Middle Eastern nations tried contacting them, looking to negotiate guarantees for the safety of Mecca, and more or less got told 'what part of unconditional do you not understand?' The Italians made a similar request about Rome and got the same answer. At the moment, it looks like they're serious about what they said." He paused, took a breath. "In two hours, I have to go brief the President on what we think is going on, along with NASA, the CIA, and the FBI. Is there anything we can add, or are we clueless so far?"

Dr. O'Donnell said, "Myself and some of the other occult specialists believe these Bradesons might be employing magic of some sort, and so do our consultants at Miskatonic U."

"Are you invoking Clarkes Law, or do you mean it more literally?"

"Literally."

Kate Corrigan said, "That matches up with what Hellboy reported on the one he fought in Tokyo."

Manning frowned. "Well, fair enough. But I don't know how much the President will like me telling him 'a wizard did it.' And I know what the stuffed shirts from the CIA will say."

The collected department heads frowned. They too could guess what the CIA would say to that.

After a moment, Manning continued. "At any rate, for now I want us all to be on the lookout for anything. Corrigan, Devon, get as many of your people who are in the field right now back home. If we end up needing them, I want them handy. O'Donnell, put together anything you can for me. If I do have to play the 'supernatural' card, I'll want some data to back it up."

Corrigan said, "A few of mine are overseas right now. What should I do about Kraus and Hellboy?"

"We're not getting anyone home via plane, they made that clear earlier." Manning's expression looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon. "I don't like it, but we're not getting them back for this."

----------

"...So that's the story as far as we know. I'm going to go harass O'Donnell and see what I can get out of him, but for now, stay calm and be ready for action."

Corrigan looked around the 'Enhanced Talents' briefing room, trying to gage her agent's reactions. Abe was all but unreadable, as usual, as was Roger. Liz looked unashamedly concerned. The others were a mix of composed and concerned. She gave them another look-over and nodded. They would probably be fine, but she'd get clear to go for information now, and let them talk out of earshot of an officer.

---------

Abe Sapien headed for the surface. Liz had disappeared when Corrigan left them to their own devices, and the fish-man suspected he knew where. Blinking against the sunlight he glanced around. Sure enough, there she was, in the corner that most of the nic-addicts used as a smoke pit. She looked frazzled, understandably.

"Hey," he said, walking up.

"Hey," she responded, not looking up from her cig.

"Don't worry too much, we'll come up with something."

"I know. I just hope... well, I hope whatever we come up with _works._"

"Agreed."

There was a moment of silence. Liz finished her cigarette and stamped out the butt. "I'm not worried about us so much as Hellboy and Krause. We've at least got the Bureau's resources to fall back on. They're stuck out in the field."

"True, but Krause is in a good position to go to ground if he has to, and Hellboy's got help where he is. He even thinks fairly highly of them."

Liz nodded. "I just wish we knew more about these invaders. Not knowing is driving me nuts. We don't have the full team together, and we don't know what we're facing."

"True, but we've proven adequate at being creative in the past. We'll come up with something here. As for the big monkey, I'm sure he'll be fine."

She pulled out another cigarette and put it to her lips. "Abe, you've know Hellboy longer than I have." The pyrokinetic snapped her fingers, lighting the cig. "Knowing his luck, do you honestly think there's any chance he won't be in the path of this?"

* * *

Queen Beryl wasn't entirely sure she liked her new home.

The Infinity Circuit into which she'd been inserted had been moved from the _Samaris _onto Mage-Admiral Kallson's flagship, the battleship _Admiral Ander_. She'd managed to find several ways to poke around the cruiser's computer systems before the transfer, and she found now that most of those tricks seemed to work on the larger battleship. She was taking some care in her poking around, for she didn't want to irritate her 'patrons.'

The Admiral had taken some time to speak to her, himself. She had been impressed with him, where she had not been impressed by _Samaris'_ master. He asked intelligent questions, listened closely to the answers, and she had a niggling sense that she'd given away more information than she'd intended.

He also had a familiar, a large black cat by the name of Togo. It's jade-coloured eyes seemed to bore into her. She had never been terribly fond of cats, and this one did nothing to improve her opinion.

Still, if nothing else, she'd found a way to tap into the mighty battleship's sensors, and the view they gave of Earth was nigh godlike. She could also tap the comm systems, and for all she'd been worried when the Admiral had given his ultimatum, she'd learned that several nations on Earth had already refused to surrender. There would be a battle after all, and her enemy's beloved world would burn before being ground under heel.

And it would serve her purposes well. The plan, as she understood it, was to unlease a horde of her youma at the outset. They wanted to use them as cannon fodder. Beryl had no real objections to that, but they would be doing more. She had a taste of the living world in this Infinity Circuit. She wanted more. If her youma could gather enough life energy, they might just be able to restore her.

------------------

Evangeline sipped at her tea. "So. How are we going to react to these... interlopers?"

Konoemon Konoe sat back, sighing. "Right to the point, I see. I do not understand your haste, McDowell. You could not leave the grounds to fight even if you wanted to."

"Oh?" The vampiress' smile was almost playful for a moment. "Could you not repeat the same tactic you proposed for the Kyoto class trip? Trick the curse into thinking it's school-related?" The smile faded after a few moments. "Nevertheless, I would like to know. If nothing else, I am curious for Negi's sake."

The Dean sighed again. "The council has decided that we will not act."

"Do they still cling to the notion that the only defense against the non-mages is anonymity? Fools." Evangeline shook her head.

"Personally, I do agree with you, but this is not a decision for us to make. The threat was directed against the mortal world, and we are to keep out of its affairs once again." He sighed. "They also cite the threat of the Cosmo Entelecheia and their recent attacks. 'Why borrow trouble from abroad when we have so much of our own already?'"

"Averruncus is hardly the greatest threat they have faced. Fools. Still, I should not be surprised, I suppose." Another sip. "I seldom see the council taking a long view."

"Nor do I. I will admit, I'm rather worried that they are locking down all the portals between this world and the Magical World. If they haven't noticed us among the non-mages, it might help us stay hidden, but if they have... we would be very vulnerable here, and we would have nowhere to run."

Evangeline's response was a scornful frown. "Well. I suppose _some_ good could come of that. If nothing else, it will prevent young Negi from responding to this outside threat as his father would."

"Take charge against it boldly?"

"Yes. I'd hate to see my best student in far too long be turned into an Ermine."

------------------

Shenhua wasn't quite sure where in Tokyo they were. The Yakuza had been in an understandable hurry about getting Balalaika and her team into a safehouse and off the streets where their quite spectacularly illegal arsenal might be spotted by the police. She doubted the Tokyo police would actually be able to _stop_ their little army, but if they tried it could cause trouble.

Mr. Chang had stayed back in Roanapur to pick up the pieces after their running battle and keep the other factions from doing anything too disastrous. Balalaika seemed to trust him not to screw her over. Shenhua didn't pretend to understand them, but they seemed to have some kind of understanding with each other.

She looked at her kukri. It was about as sharp as she could get it without defeating the purpose – too sharp an edge would just blunt itself the second she hit something. Which was almost certainly going to happen before too long. The Yaks were making themselves useful by digging up anything they could find on Happosai's current whereabouts.

Most of Balalaika's Red Army goons were there, backed up by a fair number of Chang's best fighters. Shenhua, Revy, Sawyer, Eda and several other nuns from the Church of Violence had joined the hunt. The girls had all been victims of the pervert troll, and they all wanted a piece of his hide. He'd managed to escape them before, but they wouldn't let that happen again. With the amount of ordnance they'd brought along, it was more or less guaranteed that none of them would ever be allowed into Japan again, but the exiled Chinese Amazon was entirely fine with that, so long as she got herself some honor-restoring revenge.

She looked around the room. A few Russians were watching something on TV, but most of them were servicing various bits of lethal hardware, as were most of the other mercenaries. Sawyer was working on her chainsaw with a file, it's quiet rasp undercutting the other noises. At the far end of the room, Eda and Revy shared a table, their respective guns in bits before them as they cleaned and oiled.

Shenhua gave her kukri another look-over. Yes, this one was ready. She was ready. Once they found Happosai, they would have their revenge. With all the uproar this 'alien invasion' hoax was generating, they'd probably even get away with it and get home without too much of a fight with the local authorities.

She still hadn't quite decided how to go about securing a piece of the troll's hide to take home with her, but she'd manage. She had time, it wasn't like she was going to run into a Chinese Amazon on the streets of Tokyo, after all.

-------------------

Lieutenant Forsythe tried not to be annoyed with his orders.

_Miriel_ had been well on its way home when word had come down from on high to divert to Earth for a flyby. In truth, the courier boat would only be out about five extra hours to make the check... but he'd promised his daughter that he'd be home promptly today, for it was her birthday. The diversion meant he'd be late. He truly disliked having to break his word to little Klara, whatever the cause.

Still, he wouldn't be _too_ late, and, hell, orders were orders. It wasn't like he could do anything about Admiral Harlaown and the bee in his bonnet. They were almost to Earth's solar system. In fact they'd be dropping into normal-space right about – _now._

_Miriel_ dropped out of dimensional space just outside lunar orbit, and every alarm on the ship started screaming. Earth's high orbitals were filled with ships of some unfamiliar but clearly militant design, and the courier boat had managed to pop out of dimensional space almost on top of one of them. Without a word, the helmsman got them off of a colision course with the thing.

"Who the hell are these people?" asked Forsythe.

"No idea, sir," came Alis at the sensor board, "They don't match anything I have on file."

"Open hailing frequencies!"

"No response, sir," said the middy at the comm, sounding slightly frantic.

Almost overlapping that came Alis, "Sir! We're being painted by multiple targeting systems."

"Sankt Kaiser preserve us," breathed Forsythe. Then, louder, "Evasive action! How soon can we jump back out?"

"At least two minutes, sir. Recalibrating the core now."

"Try to hail them again!"

"Still no response, sir!" There was a definite edge of panic in the middy's tone. Forsythe agreed completely.

His eyes danced over the tactical display, trying to spot something that might help. The nearest of the unknown ships were breaking their orbits to pursue the _Miriel_. Several other ships, in the higher orbitals, were shifting course as well, most seeming to be trying for a better firing angle on the courier boat.

"Record and transmit to Headquarters: 'Have arrived at Earth, planet is blockaded by unknown hostile force. Force at least twenty five, two-five, ships strong, has not responded to hails. We are under fire and attempting to evade.'"

A moment later, the middy said, "Recorded, sir."

"Transmit!" The ship rocked to a near miss.

Panicked, "I can't! They've got some kind of jamming field up!"

"Compensate and punch through it! Alis, help him."

The inertial compensators struggled to keep up with their frantic manuvers as the courier boat tried desperately to claw for open space. The ship rocked again as a shot brushed her shields.

Forsythe punched up the tactical controls. _Miriel's_ weapons were poor, little more than a tithe against what she was recieving, but she would not go down without putting out some kind of fight. Magical beams lashed out, crossing the incoming fire and splashing harmlessly against the shields of one of the pursuing vessels. That ship's own fire struck home, with far greater impact. _Miriel_ rocked, hull ringing like a hammer-struck bell. For a brief instant, the sound of escaping air could be heard, and was just as quickly cut off as emergency doors slammed shut.

"Got it! Transmission sent!"

"Excellent work! How long until we can jump out?"

Alis hurried back to her station. "Another thirty seconds. Sir! Reading incoming missiles, thirty plus!"

"All guns, switch to anti-missile fire! All other power to the drives, we don't need to dodge much lon-"

The ship vanished in a boil of plasma and magic as the _Admiral Ander_ found her range.

* * *

Now that these strangers were no longer hiding themselves beyond her ability to scry, Setsuna had managed to learn a bit about them. They had enough protections on their ships that it still wasn't terribly simple to spy on them, but she was able to get more than a little informaion. Mostly about its goals, but little more than impressions of its masters. Those impressions were not encouraging, he seemed both intelligent and ruthless. There was another, more familiar presence there as well, but she could not quite place it.

She returned to her townhouse from the Gates. Listening, she heard the other Outers and who she guessed was Hellboy chatting in the living room. The conversation fell off as she walked into the room.

Hellboy, who was cleaning his hefty pistol on the table, broke the silence. "Any luck?"

"Depending on how you define luck. I've confirmed when and where they're coming."

"Right here, as soon as we hit their little deadline?"

"Not quite. They're landing in Tokyo, but I can't quite tell what their objective is. Something near the city, but not the city itself."

"Interesting. Any idea what they might be after?"

"I can think of a few posibilities, but nothing that really leaps out. Still, I saw something else that might end up helping us, though it isn't exactly... positive."

"Oh?" asked Haruka.

"About fifteen minutes ago, a Time-Space Administration Bureau ship showed up in orbit."

"We have help?"

"Not just yet... they didn't get away, but from what I could observe, they believe they got a message off before being shot down."

There was a moment of silence as that sank in. "So," said Hellboy, "They called home. Any idea how they managed that?"

Setsuna hesitated for a moment before answering. She really, really hated this. "Unfortunately, no. I don't understand how their communication gear work quite that well."

"Ouch," said Haruka. "Still, if they got a message out, we should have help coming."

"Which is a good thing, because I got the distinct impression that this 'BRD' had no intention of taking over peacefully even if we had surrendered."

Hellboy snorted. "We took that problem out of their hands. Nobody's gonna give unconditional surrender to an alien invasion, even after they shot down a bunch of airplanes. It would be political suicide." His tone turned serious. "So. We have, potentailly, an entire army of jokers like the one from last night coming to town. Theoretically, we've got TSAB re-enforcements, but we don't know when or if they're getting here. Are we gonna fight 'em head on, or do the guerilla warfare thing after they land?"

"In all honesty, I don't think waiting is an option. The JSDF will almost certainly resist, and without our help any battle would be nothing but a slaughter for the JSDF, especially given the way Schwarze was throwing around power."

"Assuming they fight like he did."

"Assuming that, yes." She sighed. "We need to come up with a better way to break that kind of barrier."

Hotaru said, "Pure power won't work. The shield Schwarze put up when I attacked him absorbed almost all of my attack's energy and didn't fail."

"Though it came close... that scared him more than a little." Haruka was looking thoughtful. "But yes, if you couldn't just blow through his shield, we certainly can't."

"Well, he _did_ brag that he was the most powerful mage in his group... Hopefully that much was true."

"And by a lot."

"Even so... we need to decide how we're going to deal with this. An army of guys almost as tough as Schwarze is going to be hard to stop. And I only have a couple reloads of cold iron for my pistol." Hellboy sighed. "And it couldn't punch through his body armor afterwords anyway. So, we need some kind of plan."

Michiru and Haruka exchanged glances. The teal-haired Senshi said, "For all it might not work, I think we have to fight them head on. We don't know what their objective is... it could very well be something we cannot afford to let them take."

"True." Setsuna sighed. "We probably will need to figure that out. I suppose we should get ahold of our ally."

----------

Ranma was moving through kata at a pace that the human eye could barely track. He was coldly furious. He hated not being able to deal with something. He spared a moment to glare at the sky. He knew where they were. He had a reasonable idea what they were doing. He just couldn't do a damned thing about it. Even if he could fly himself high enough to reach one of those ships, there was no way he'd live long enough to get inside. Hell, even if he could get aboard, he didn't know enough about ships to really have a chance to do some major damage.

It was frustrating as all hell. He felt helpless, something he felt seldom and enjoyed never. It was infuriating! He had defeated a Dragon-Blooded lord! A Pheonix! Gone beyond the stars and battled numerous foes with unfamiliar styles! He'd taken on an entire army of demons and won, albiet with help. He'd mastered _the secret of flight itself_. He was more powerful now than he'd ever dreamed of becoming, powerful enough to challenge and possibly even defeat his own masters! And he couldn't do a damned thing against these invaders on his own.

He accelerated, to the point where he was more or less a red-and-black blurr in the back yard. For a long, timeless stretch he roared around the yard, venting his frustrations on the air around him. Finally he stopped, breathing heavily.

"You okay?" asked Nabiki.

Ranma glanced over. The middle Tendo sister was still under doctor's orders to take it easy, and as far as he'd thought she'd planned to spend the day 'catching up' on her information network. He'd sort of expected her to be inside, but right now she was sitting at the back door. "I'll be fine. I just... I really hate this situation." He straightened up and started walking over. "Didn't mean ta distract ya."

"It's all right. I got some good footage of you before you got _really_ worked up."

"What happened ta not sellin' pics of me?"

"Our agreement was the sale of pictures, not video, correct?"

"Uh... yeah."

"Then I'm not violating the terms of our agreement, am I? Anyway, why do you think everything I gather is for sale? I'm in training again, some footage of the master could be useful."

Ranma sighed, sinking into one of the chairs. "Well... whatever. I probably should care about this more, but I'm just too frustrated here. Alien invaders from another dimension? When did my life turn into bad fanfiction?"

"When you agreed to help two magical girls track Ryoga down. Really, you brought this on yourself."

Ranma snorted a laugh. "Okay, fair enough. Still. I wish I knew what ta do about those bastards."

"Annoyingly, nothing leaps to mind. At least, not without them coming down here first. Do you honestly not have any ideas?"

"Well... nothin' better than stealin' some scuba gear an' seein' how high I can fly. But I ain't exactly _confident_ in that plan."

"It has a flaw or two." Nabiki's smirk was almost weapons grade. "What about the Senshi?"

"I ain't talked to 'em yet today. We were pretty stumped last night."

He heard Setsuna's mental voice. _Ranma? Are you busy?_

"Huh," he said. "Speak of the devil." _Not really, you got any good ideas for dealing with our friends up there?_

Nabiki looked confused. "What is it?"

"One of the Senshi's talkin' ta me."

_We're still brainstorming, but we've hit a snag. Their objective is something in or near the city of Tokyo, but not the city itself. Can you think of anything they might be after?_

"Ah, not to put too fine a point on it, but, how?"

Ranma pulled the TSAB pendant out of his shirt. "This little magic dealie here." _Nothin' leaps ta mind... I'm guessin' ya mean somethin' magic?_

_ That was our assumption, yes._

_ I can think of a couple magical dinguses kicking around, but nothin' all that special. Ta' be blunt, I ain't intending to let 'em get what they're comin' for._

"Interesting. Can I get a closer look?"

_That seems to be the direction we're leaning towards as well. There have been some developments. A TSAB ship appeared in orbit a few minutes ago and tried to run the blockade._

"I kinda need it ta talk right now... gimmie a minute." _Did they make it?_

_ Unfortunately, no. They did get a message out, however._

_ Damn. Well, if they got a message out we could be in business. I dunno if the TSAB cares about Earth, but they ain't gonna let someone blow one of their ships an' get away with it._

_ That was our guess as well. I'm glad you agree.. you know them better than we do._

Ranma didn't know if his mental speech could project his current feral grin, but he suspected it did. _Yeah, that should bring 'em down on the Bradesons. Time ta start plannin' for the fight ta come. Gimmie an hour to round everyone up, an' I'll be down there._

----------

Akane Tendo sat cross-legged in the Dojo, meditating.

She and Shampoo had almost beaten one of those Youma themselves. Oh, Ryoga had definately helped, but they'd still been doing quite well. Somehow, in that fight, she'd found herself holding a hammer. She couldn't remember seeing one like it anywhere around before the fight, nor could she find it after. She'd found hammers at similarly opportune moments more than once in the past. Too many times to be coincidence.

Ranma had told her, at the beginning of her training with him, that 'you do this stuff all the time without realizing it.' Perhaps, she thought, the hammers were the same way. Perhaps, as with increasing her strenght and speed, she could find a way to find those hammers on cue. Though not primarily trained in an armed style, she was still quite skilled at fighting that way, and a hefty hammer made for an excellent force multiplier. The kind she could use against demons or, say, random insane martial artists who decided she'd make a nice captive or concubine.

Breath in. Think through the fight. Remember what she felt. Remember the flow of ki. Let her ki flow now. What had happened? What had she done? Breath out. Let the ki flow. Repeat. In theory, this should work. It had helped her become more conscious of how much ki she was using to enhance her speed and strength. This was something that had become very, very important to her. If it worked once, it could work again.

Breath in. What did she feel? What did she think? What did she do? Breath out. Concentr-

The door to the dojo _shfff-_ed open. "Hey, 'Kane?"

The youngest Tendo shot Ranma a glare. "What do you want?"

"Wanna get in on kicking the invader's asses? Throwin' together a war council."

Akane stood. "Absolutely. But... why? You normally don't want me to fight."

Ranma couldn't quite generate his usual smirk. The smile looked... strained. "'Cause this time around, we're gonna need all the help we can get. Soun ain't comin', an' I ain't gonna let Nabs in, even if she wanted to, she ain't good enough for this kinda thing. But like you say, yer a martial artist, too."

-------------

Haruka was on the second floor, keeping a watch down the street as the rest of the Outers prepared for their guests. Mamoru and Hellboy were helping them get set up, though Mamoru himself had only just arrived, having gone to get Luna and Artemis. The general consensus was that they'd need every mind they could get to plan this.

It was just about the end of the hour Ranma had asked for when she finally spotted him. He was chatting with another boy, the bandana-wearing fellow he'd beaten a Youma with earlier. Perhaps a step behind him was a boy she didn't recognize in voluminous robes. Behind them was a wizened old master type, a woman who appeared to be using a walking stick as a pogo stick. Then four young ladies, one with purple hair and a chinese-style dress, one with some kind of massive weapon strapped to her back, and two more or less ordinary looking girls. "Hey, Setsuna! Here he comes, and he brought a whole mob with him."

"Good. Try to contact him."

"Okay!" She concentrated. _Ranma?_

_ Hey Haruka. Just about there._

_ I just spotted you. That's quite the mob you've got there._

_ Everyone I could get ahold of on short notice who'd be useful. Wish I coulda found a few more._

_ It'll be fine, I'm sure._ A pause. _So. Do any of your friends have those fun Jusenkyo curses?_

She caught the mental equivalent of a sigh. _Yes. Don't test it, okay?_

_ Why not?_

_ Because if you do, it _will_ start a fight, an' it'd probably level the house, an' we don't got time for that._

_ Now I'm really curious._

Another sigh. _Look, I'll explain later. Just don't throw the water around, okay?_

_ Oh fine, spoilsport. Bring your wrecking crew in, and we'll get started._

_------------_

It had been a surprisingly quiet train ride to Juuban, considering who was aboard. Ukyo, Shampoo, and Akane herself had kept a strained silence. None of them really liked the others. Konatsu, by contrast, was practically bubbling. The pseudo-kunoichi was looking forward to a chance to meet some of the Senshi. Truth to tell, Akane was looking forward to that as well... but there was the little matter of the other fiancees.

The three of them were at the back of the pack. Ranma and Ryoga seemed almost casual as they chatted, and Mousse was throwing in the occasional comment. Akane was fairly sure their ease was a front – considering what was coming they simply couldn't actually be that calm.

Ukyo seemed to have the same thought. "How are they so nonchalant about this?" she muttered.

Shampoo said, "Is big problem, can try to fix or panic. Arien too-too smart panic when need fix. Even stupid Mousse can pick fights. Sometime."

The three exchanged looks. They didn't particularly like each other, nor did they trust each other. But under the circumstances...

"Can we agree to a truce? At least until this is over?" asked Akane.

Ukyo nodded. "If the boys can do it, I think we can, sugar. Agreed."

The two Japanese girls glanced to Shampoo. She glanced back, exhaled. "Shampoo agree. Truce until this over."

"Good," said Akane, turning back to the road ahead. It was better than nothing.

-------------------

"Good afternoon, General Jiiral," said Admiral Kallson as the heavyset groundpounder entered his office.

"Good afternoon, Admiral."

"How is the preparation coming for your troops?" Kallson gestured to a chair. Jiiral sat, nodding his thanks.

"All the troops here have been briefed, and a general plan of battle is being finished now. We've analyzed the information Enforcer Schwarze gathered. Our own Enforcers should be able to neutralize the indigenous mages, and the regulars should be able to handle anything the JSDF can throw at them, based on the intel your people managed to gather."

"Excellent. Do you anticipate any problems getting the forces on _Siege of Tesephony_ ready for battle before the set jump-off time?"

"As long as they get here in the next twenty-four local hours, we should be fine. Major Holmon's troops are top notch."

"Do you know when Enforcer Schwarze will be able to return to duty?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid. He sustained some fairly serious injuries, and his Focus was destroyed."

"Ah. I hadn't realized that last. So if nothing else he'll be out of action until he can prepare another one. Well, I wish him a speedy recovery." Jiiral hesitated a moment before continuing, looking the wiry admiral over. His familiar seemed to be smiling. "What about that bogie from earlier?"

"My people assure me it didn't manage to transmit anything before we disposed of them. We should have a week or so before its owners notice they're missing a light unit like that, and I've already sent a courier off to Hydra Base. We should have re-enforcements before they become a problem." He frowned. "I'll admit, I wish my gun crews had left a little more debris for us to sift, but overall..."

Jiiral nodded. "Well, fair enough. I'll leave you to your business, Admiral. Good day."

"Good day, General."

* * *

_Miriel'_s message went through TSAB headquarters like a bomb blast.

It had been slightly fragmented, but the salient points had gotten through – Earth, a backwater with poor magic and minimal spaceflight – was blockaded by an extremely hostile fleet. There was only one reason to blockade a planet like that, as precursor to an invasion. And while the TSAB normally wouldn't concern themselves overmuch with the fate of a non-protected world, this invader had destroyed one of their own ships. That offense would not, _could_ not be tolerated.

In the hours after _Miriel_ failed to return, the Fleet's commanding Admirals debated their response. A show of force would be needed, of course, but how great a show? How quickly did they need to respond? What ships could be spared for the effort? And perhaps most important of all, who would lead their strike?

The debate went nowhere fast, until their civilian masters weighed in. The response would come immediately, it would come as hard as possible, and it would include ground forces. These upstarts would be taught the error of opposing the Time Space Administration Bureau in the most blunt manner possible. The ground forces would counter any possible invasion that might be under way by the time the Fleet could respond.

Chrono, for his part, was glad to see a quick response. He'd done his part to get it – as much as they scared some of the Admiralty, Nanoha Takamachi and Hayate Yagami were popular among the people, and pointing out that it was their homeworld being threatened had gotten some extra support thrown behind the response. He generally disliked politics, but it was a game he could play on occasion when he thought it worthwhile.

With his Enforcer background, Chrono had been assigned to co-ordinate with the Ground Forces. They were going to throw some hefty forces behind this retaliation. With a little luck, they'd find _Miriel _or at least it's complement, when they responded. As Chrono had ordered them to check on Earth, it had fallen to him to inform the families that their loved ones were missing. It was a duty he hated, and if he ever stopped hating it, it would be time to resign.

His console _beep_ed at him. "Harlaown here."

Nanoha's face filled the screen, expression hard. As he'd perdicted, she was not happy with the news. "Chrono? It's Nanoha. I've started contacting everyone I know who's both on planet and has the skills we'll need for this."

"Good. If you need a hand dealing with bureaucrats, let me know. I'll sort them out."

"Thank you, I'll probably need the help. I've gotten ahold of Agent Lanster, Subaru Nakajima, Schach, and the Wolkenritter so far."

"Great! I'm trying to get word to Fate and Colonel Yagami, see if they can make it back before we set out, but this place is pretty confused right now."

"Thank you. Let me know if you manage."

"I will. Keep me updated on your situation, too, please."

"Of course. Whoever these people are, they are going to regret this."

Chrono shuddered as the communication ended. Her tone, in that last sentence, had been a tone he hadn't heard her use in a while. Not since Quattro had stolen her adopted daughter and taunted her about it on national TV. He had a suspicion that some poor bastard was going to run afoul of the White Devil, and soon.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: I own none of the verses tapped for this and make no claim._

_Author's note: sorry it took so long, but this chapter didn't want to gel, and is big. _

-Chapter 13-

It probably shouldn't have surprised Ranma that Kasumi was able to whip up a batch of 'pancakes' in minutes when she'd asked Hellboy what he wanted for breakfast, but it did. They were remarkably tasty for Western food, too.

They'd gotten together for a skull session at Setsuna's place, and the two groups had debated a few ideas. About all they'd really decided on was to do most of their planning at the Tendo Dojo, partially because it was closer to where they expected the attack to come, and partially because it had more room.

That last was important to Ranma, more than he'd cared to say. Dealing with two talking cats pushed the limits of his self control at the best of times, dealing with them in a crowded room as small as Setsuna's living room was rather worse. At least the damned furballs had figured out that giving him room was a good thing. _At least I managed ta keep it together. More or less._ He sighed as he heard the clatter of pans in the kitchen.

The other big advantage to getting everyone together at the Dojo was it brought Kasumi, Ukyo, and Shampoo together in the kitchen. The results were nothing short of amazing, and Ranma was far from alone in expressing thanks and praise. It was a good way to start the day, and hopefully that general goodness would hold out for a while. Ranma wasn't too confident of that, it was going to be a stressful day or two. The plan was to practice, and try and work on some ideas for dealing with the invaders.

And hopefully gel into some kind of team. He knew he could work with Ryoga and the other Martial Artists – they'd all worked together at various times before – but not _everybody_. He knew that the fiances had called some kinda truce, and he hoped like anything that it worked. Akane and Shampoo weren't exactly friends at the best of times, though both girls got along with Ukyo decently.

And of course, there was the whole 'working together with the Senshi' thing. And Hellboy. Everyone was being polite, but they weren't really a team. That'd need to change before the bad guys landed, or they were in big trouble.

----------------

General Jiiral looked up from his paperwork at the sound of the door chime. From the intercom came the voice of his aide de camp. "General, Enforcer Byron to see you."

"Send him in." The heavyset general straightened up as the Enforcer entered his office.

"Good afternoon, General." Garm Byron saluted crisply.

The general returned it. "Enforcer. At ease."

"Thank you sir."

"What can I do for you, Enforcer?"

"Sir, as you know, Enforcer Engel Schwarze has been badly injured by the forces native to the target city. Myself and my fellow Enforcers would like an opportunity to, well, even the score."

"You want my men to leave the local mages to you? I can't make any promises, Enforcer. I refuse to order my men to ignore an enemy attack simply to allow you and yours choice of targets."

"I understand, sir, and I didn't expect otherwise. I would like to volunteer myself and the other Enforcers to lead the first wave."

"That goes against the standard rules of engagement."

"I know, sir. That's why I'm asking." A pause. "And sir, I suspect most of the Armored Infantry would be in favor of letting us take the lead for a change."

"You may well be right about that, Enforcer. But I need you to understand something." He stood, looked the mage straight in the eye. "There is more at stake here than any revenge. I understand your desire to avenge your comrade, but we have objectives that have to be fulfilled. In the event that I do approve sending you lot in first, I'll need you to remember that. Your job is to help break any stiff resistance, not just ones that have offended you personally. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Dismissed. You will be informed of my decision."

"Thank you sir." Another crisp salute, then Byron turned smartly and left the office.

Jiiral sank back into his chair. For all it went against the ROEs and tradition, he was tempted to take the Enforcers up on their offer. There was more to it than friendship or respect for a comrade in arms, of course, but he could understand that. He'd come up through the ranks himself, he understood that, sometimes, you had to make a statement that you wouldn't tolerate someone making a mockery of your service. And the part of his soul that was still a low ranking PBI was rather pleased at the idea of the hot shot mages being the first to stick their necks in the noose for a change.

------------

Ukyo stretched, trying to work the kinks out of tired muscles. It had been an interesting and slightly humbling day of sparring. Akane had improved immensely under Ranma's tutelage, far more than she'd expected. The short-haired girl was almost as good as Shampoo now, and she'd pushed Ukyo hard in their sparring match. It didn't help matters that it had been a 'friendly' match, and thus she'd been unable to use her battle spatula or other weapons. Hers was very much an armed style, and she suffered when doing without.

Still, she'd gotten a smirk or two out of watching Akane fangirl out with the Senshi. Oh, she herself had been a bit... giddy, but compared to Akane she'd been downright boring. Compared to Konatsu, as well, for that matter. Watching the pseudo-kunoichi fanboy out on another girl irritated her in a way she didn't really know how to define. In the end, probably not something worth obsessing over. Konatsu could obsess over whoever he wanted to, and it was no skin off her nose. Really.

And Haruka was interesting anyway. She'd spotted Konatsu for a guy before the other Senshi, and as she, Haruka, and Konatsu chatted before lunch she'd learned that the Senshi occasionally crossdressed as well. That had lead to some comparing of notes and techniques that had garnered bemused looks from the others. As if any of them, with the exception of Kasumi Tendo, were closer to 'normal' than she and Konatsu.

Well, possibly Nabiki and Akane as well, but she was still closer to the standard than the Chinese Amazons or even her beloved Ranma.

_That says something about my circle of friends,_ she thought._ And it's probably not a good something._

She shrugged and returned her attention to the portable grill she'd brought down. Concentrating on making dinner was almost certainly more productive than wondering idly about the sanity of the people she spent her time with.

And, for that mater, her own.

------------------

_Claudia_ glided through the aether with more grace than Chrono recalled from his last time at the helm. He made a mental note to thank the yard dogs when they got back.

The heavy cruiser was shaking down into formation with the rest of Battle Squadron Six. They were setting out now, a scratch fleet composed of four different squadrons and task groups, but with sufficient firepower to overwhelm anything they were likely to face. Or so it was hoped, at any rate. The sub-groups were all individual task forces, well drilled and used to working with the half dozen or so other ships of its task force. They were hoping that would make up for the fact that the fleet as a whole was very much an ad hoc group.

They certainly had an impressive weight of metal. _Claudia_ was at the head of a group of eight heavy cruisers, all equipped with Arc En Ciels. There were also a dozen light cruisers under Commodore Klynchuk to serve as the fleet's screening element, and a squadron of six battle cruisers under Admiral Villar. Finally, Admiral Havelok was in overall command of the fleet and specifically of four battleships detached from the Home Fleet. Chrono hadn't served under Havelok before, but the woman was reputed to be a good tactical commander.

The other half of the situation – the possibly needed ground forces – looked okay as well. In addition to the ship's normal complements, they'd brought in enough other Marines to form a short regiment – packed in like sardines among a dozen ships, perhaps, but they were here. In addition, they had a fair number of high-order mages. Fate and Hayate had both been unable to get back to Mid-Childa in time to join them, but there was still a solid group under Nanoha for this. He wasn't terribly confident of all of them – the Senshi were technically still in training, but there was no way to keep them away from this mission – but most of them were experienced.

Hell, Ferret Boy had managed to get himself attached to the mission, officially to provide intel on these mystery attackers. _Miriel_'s transmission hadn't had enough to identify them, but if the TSAB had ever run across them before, he'd know about it. Officially. Unofficially, Chrono suspected, he wanted a chance to get in on a fight. Hell, a part of Chrono wanted that too. His gut told him there was going to be _something_ going on groundside, and the part of him that had spent years in the field desperately wanted to help. But his place was with his squadron.

He sighed, settled back in his command chair. This was going to be a long trip.

------------------

Shampoo jumped back, avoiding Ranma's kick, but only barely.

They'd been sparring for most of the afternoon, the various fighters taking turns. It was good practice, and Shampoo would be lying if she said she could ever find watching her Arien fight anything but poetry in motion. It was also quite interesting to see the Senshi in action – though even Haruka, their self-proclaimed best martial artist, was woefully unskilled compared to the Nerima fighters. Though her magic made for a great equalizer. The demon Hellboy had also been an interesting opponent, quite powerful if not terribly skilled.

But her rival fiances had proven... interesting. Akane had improved greatly under Ranma's instruction, and her current skills would not shame an Amazon. Ukyo, too, had improved since the last time they had fought, though not much. The Chinese Amazon was feeling slightly conflicted. She knew that their truce was a good and important thing, especially under the circumstances.

But their backs would make for tempting targets in the battles to come. Obstacles were, after all, for killing.

----------------

"All right, you Shellheads! Siddown and shaddup!" barked Staff Sergeant Yont.

The assembled Armored Infantrymen quickly settled, and Major Mednik stepped up to his podium. "Thank you, Sergeant. Ladies, Gentlemen, I'll be brief. The invasion begins in ten hours. Between now and then, I want you all to catch at least six hours in the rack, because we're expecting spirited resistance. The pukes in Intel think that our suits should be immune to the Yokel's small arms, but those pukes aren't the ones going into a hot zone. They also think that some of the heavier Yokel weapons _will_ be able to penetrate our armor, so watch for tanks and obvious anti-tank units. And remember, the Demon Murphy doesn't play favorites, any idiot can get lucky. We've got a lot of ground to take and secure, and Intel believes we're going to face partisans as well as the Yokel military."

He paused, looked over his troops. "That's the bad news. The good news, is that we're not breaking trail for once." He paused again, allowing the murmurs to die down. "First, they've got some tame summoner who's going to be portaling in some creatures from a lower plane. Watch your fire around them, so they stay on our side. Second, it seems that rumor going around that an Enforcer went down earlier and got his head kicked in is true. So all the Enforcers attached to the Battalion have volunteered for first crack at the Yokels."

The Major's smile could only be described as cruel as he let the reaction of his troops wash over him. He raised a hand for silence. "I know, I know... the spook pushers _never_ go first. But it's our lucky day, boys and girls." He let the laughter subside. "Don't waste too much time, you'll need to be in your Power Armor and ready to rock in ten hours. Dismissed."

----------------

Ranma woke slowly.

He'd gone to sleep the night before on the roof of the Tendo Dojo, seeking some peace and quiet in the rather crowded place. The sun was shrouded behind the clouds. _Just as well,_ he thought, _ This way I'm not just glaring at the ships._

Ranma shifted on the roof tiles, and realized that she'd shifted sometime during the night. _Musta been a heavy dew,_ the Aquatransexual thought, sitting up and stretching. Yawning, she glanced to one side, and resisted the urge to chuckle. At some point, she'd been joined up here by Akane and Ukyo, who were both still asleep. _They're takin' this truce thing serious. Just as well._

Then Ranma looked to her other side, and shot to her feet, scrambling up to the peak of the roof. A small purple-white cat was curled up in a puddle of Chinese silk. Shampoo, as well, had joined her, and the dew had done its work. "C-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-cat..." Ranma whispered, shuddering, then forced herself to calm down. They had a long day ahead, and it'd probably be best if he let the girls get more sleep. The better mood they were in, the less likely they were to kill each other instead of help in the battle to come. And Shampoo-Neko was still asleap, not coming closer, and she wasn't trapped, so there was no reason to panic. Not that Ranma would panic, of course.

Muttering various curses about the Neko-Ken, Ranma made her way down the opposite slope of the roof, heading to the furo by way of the back yard.

---------------

Ryoga woke slowly as well, to the pins-and-needles feeling of a limb gone to sleep. Looking towards his arm, he saw Akari lying beside him, and smiled at the memories of last night. Her lying on his arm in her sleep was no price at all. _As ways to spend the last night before I quite possibly get killed in battle go... that was probably the best._

Gently, he pulled his arm out from under her sleeping form, and carefully retrieved his scattered clothes. He smiled thinly as he headed for the furo. Hopefully they'd manage to avoid the dying.

If not... well, he certainly didn't intend to go without a fight.

-----------------

"All right, everyone, it's almost time for the attack to begin." Mage-Admiral Kallson stood at the head of the conference table. "Let's make sure we all understand the plan. Queen Beryl, will you begin?"

"Thank you Admiral," said the apparition. They'd hooked her up to the comm systems properly for the conference. "As you requested, I have made preparations to unleash my Youma at the outset of hostilities. I had thought to start with a great volume of lesser Youma at the start, to spread out and use numbers to occupy as many of the defenders as possible. That should allow the establishment of a... I believe the term is 'beachhead.' Once one is established I will unleash more potent minions."

General Jiiral nodded agreement. "That should be workable, based on our intelligence about the local militia." He cocked a thumb towards Enforcer Byron. "The Enforcers would like to join the first wave, and I think there would be a definite benefit to having them in that position."

"Fully trained mages powerful enough to be Enforcers are a rare and valuable resource, General..." began Kallson.

Jiiral raised a hand for silence. "I am aware of the reasoning behind the standard deployment orders." _And if you think I care more about the spook pushers than my own men, you're insane, _went unsaid but all in the room heard it. "But under the circumstances I believe it would be reasonable. First, the Enforcers wouldn't be serving as the 'tip of the spear,' the Youma will have that covered." He paused for a brief nod to Beryl, who returned it. "Secondly, if they _can_ neutralize the local mages quickly, it should prove a blow to the militia's morale. Intel reports that these 'Senshi' are reasonably famous, and popular."

Kallson glanced towards his intel officer, who nodded agreement. "Enforcer Byron, this was your idea?"

"Yes Admiral!" He sounded slightly unnerved.

"There'll be glory enough in this conquest without rushing ahead."

"I know sir. We just want to serve as best we can." Beryl hid a smile; the young man was a terrible liar.

Kallson gave him a long, measuring look. "Under the circumstances, I think you and the General are correct. Just watch your backs down there."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." Genuine relief crossed his features for a moment, then he managed to school them back to professional impassivity.

Jiiral continued. "Once we have our beachhead, the troops will land and engage the local Militia. I'd like to keep a regiment in reserve..."

In her techno-magic prison, Beryl tuned the conversation out. She would play her part, aided by some Bradeson mages who specialized in the arts of summoning. This would be satisfying. And for all Princess Serenity was not present to die in the fires of her wrath, this was almost better – for she would know that her friends had died pointlessly without her aid.

----------------

The gathered Martial Artists and Magical Girls were full of nervous energy as they waited in the Tendo Dojo for the last few minutes of the countdown. Zero-hour hit, and passed, and everyone released a collectively held breath. "Kinda surprised they didn't hit us the second the ultimatum time thingy was up," muttered Ranma.

Then the evening news got interrupted. Mage-Admiral Kallson looked out at the world with an expression of disappointment. "People of the Earth, this could have gone peacefully and to your benefit. You have chosen to resist, and I think you will find that you chose poorly. We are going to make a demonstration of one of your nations, after which you will be given one last chance to surrender."

The TV flickered over to a test pattern and the Youma Alarm began to whoop. Setsuna bent over it. "There are several sources. It looks like a flood of lesser Youma for now."

"Give us locations, we'll get ta work."

* * *

The Youma horde was just barely directed, enough to keep them massed up and moving in search of life-energy rich prey. They were crashing into these human like a tidal wave – as yet almost totally unresisted. Small fights broke out among the Youma as they brought civilians down, tearing after scraps of energy like jackals.

Overhead, four mages lept from rooftop to rooftop, intent on providing the horde some direction as well as seeking their opposite numbers. Unlike the horde, they scattered, trusting in their superior mobility to allow them to mass against any foe they found.

--------------

Ranma and company slammed into the largest concentration of Youma like the fist of an angry god.

He, Ryoga, and Mousse were at the forefront, lashing out with fists, ki blasts, and blades, obliterating the lesser youma at every stroke. The girls were just behind them, Ukyo with her Battle Spatula, Shampoo with her Bonbori, and Akane with a mallet – Ranma couldn't recall when she'd grabbed it, but it seemed effective. Konatsu was with them, darting around with ninja-to aflash and providing copious decoys with his Duplicating Body technique. Cologne was putting them all to shame with her own blasts tearing great swathes out of horde and pavement.

The Senshi, accompanied by Hellboy, arrived just behind the martial artists but were making up for lost time with massive flash and fury. Many of the things seemed to go straight for the American Demon, only to be brought up very short by spell or blade. Those few with the dubious fortune to actually reach him met the Right Hand of Doom. The meeting was always short and rather blunt. Mamoru was not in evidence, but he'd promised that he'd be there when they needed him.

In less than two minutes they eliminated the first concentration of Youma. "That worked," quipped Ukyo.

"Yes, it did," said Setsuna, consulting a Youma detector. "But there are several more groups nearby."

"Let's split up inta teams," said Ranma. "We can do more damage that way."

-----------------

Revy was bored. Her guns were cleaned and polished, there was nothing on TV, and the only booze they had handy was shitty Japanese beer. She hated this waiting.

When the street noises that filtered up took on a panicked edge, it roused her curiosity some, but not enough to make the effort of crossing the room to actually check. One of the Russians was over there, let that bastard check.

He did, boredly moving a curtain aside and glancing out. Then he did a double take and swore. "What's up?" Revy asked.

"I do not know... I think I am seeing things." He was rubbing at his eyes.

This was worth crossing a room for. Revy stood, stretched, and headed over. What could have gotten him like this?

The street below was a mass of fleeing people and... and some sort of beasts. _Rock would make some movie joke about now,_ her stunned mind managed. "What the hell..."

The sound of gunfire from the floor below snapped her back to the present. It was undercut with some kind of snarling noise and an inhuman cackle. Revy drew her pistols as she ran for the door, booting it open, and headed for the stairs.

One of the... things... was on the landing, stumping up the stairs on four thickly muscled legs. By reflex, she opened up, snapping three shots into its disturbingly-human face. It crashed back, and she stomped over it. One of the Russians, trailing her, let it have an extended volley from his AK. There were more of the things in the hallway below, and she started snapping shots into them, instincts born of a lifetime of bloodshed overriding a rising panic.

With a crash, one of the things broke into a room down the hall. Gunfire erupted, and she heard Sawyer's chainsaw roar to life. The monster in question – still halfway into the hallway- abruptly vanished as bullets tore into it. So did one of the ones Revy was shooting at as she double-tapped it in the forehead. _Wonder about that later. Just keep shooting for now._

The Goth stomped into the hallway, chainsaw roaring. One of the monsters reared up and lept at her, bellowing a challenge of its own to match the saw. The chainsaw's tip caught it in the belly, and ropes of gore splattered the floor and walls as she let its own momentum carry it along the saw's bar, only stopped by hitting the guard, tip of the saw erupting from its back. This one, too, disintegrated.

Unbidden, the thought came, _Rock would make a joke about this too – killing monsters with a chainsaw is like something from a video game_. She shook her head, reloaded. Now was not the time to think about her crush.

---------------

Ukyo dodged away from a swiping claw as one of the bigger Youma tried to take a piece out of her. He battle spatula swung up to block the next strike, impact running down her arms. _Why did the first big one we find have to come after me?_ She took a swipe at the thing, sharpened edge of the spatula leaving a light cut on its torso. A cut that closed before her eyes. She resisted the urge to swear and concentrated on dodging.

Konatsu darted in, light sword going for a hamstring, and then Shampoo descended from on high, Bonbori slamming down on the thing's head. It roared, swatted the Chinese Amazon away, and took a swipe at the pesudokunoichi. It's claws passed through an illusion of Konatsu, triggering something that sent a burst of powder into the Youma's eyes. Whatever he'd pulled from his trick bag, it seemed to have no effect on the beast, which roared as it looked around for a target. Once more it settled on Ukyo.

She sent her spatula arcing down from on high, and its side edge dug into the thing's shoulder, eliciting another roar. It reared up to its full height, the unexpected move pulling the spatula out of her hands. Then the Youma snapped the battle spatula in half in its claws.

Akane hit it from behind, followed a split second later by Shampoo. The two staggered it, and Ukyo darted in, determined to do what she could without her weapon. They knocked the creature off balance, and it fell back, eying them warily.

Akane handed her a hammer. "Here."

"Uh, thanks." It felt solid enough, despite the fact that she'd seen it literally wink into existence from nothing seconds before. Decent balance, too, though not quite what she was used to. It would do for now, however. She exchanged quick nods with Shampoo and Akane, and the three fiances charged the youma as one.

--------------

Setsuna Mioh watched the wizened ancient known as Cologne tear through a swathe of youma with an expression approaching awe.

She'd known, in a general sense, that the diminutive woman was skilled and powerful, but it hadn't really sunk in. She'd expected the Amazon to be only slightly more powerful than Ranma, for surely no non-mage could be very much stronger than that! Instead, she found herself fighting alongside a veritable hurricane of power. They were tearing through youma, not just the lesser ones now, but some she would be hard pressed to tackle alone.

More Youma fell to their wrath, Setsuna destroying them with her spells, the crone with a combination of ki blasts and efficient, brutal martial arts strikes, many involving her cane. Finally they found themselves alone in the street, all nearby foes retreated or vanquished.

"I am... most impressed, Elder," said Setsuna.

"I am as well, Senshi." Cologne perched atop her cane once more, took out a pipe from the folds of her robe. "We make for a good team, I think, we two ancients?" A smile as she took a puff. "Though only one of us looks the part."

"I'm impressed again. I didn't think you could... tell."

"That you are a Starseed? I have learned many things in my time. It is an honor to fight alongside one such as you." She extended a hand. Setsuna took it.

"I could say the same. Still, there is much to do."

"Indeed."

They started towards the next group of Youma, a few blocks distant. Cologne spoke again as she hopped along. "Yes, two ancients, only one looking the part. We cannot let the young have all the fun, no?"

"That would hardly be fair. Especially when we both have such power to offer."

"Oh yes. We are matched, I think, only by the two reluctant heralds of Armageddon." Another smile. "Only one of them looks the part, as well. An appropriate pair of partners in battle."

-----------------

Hellboy punched a youma in the jaw, and the monster dissolved. _This takes some getting' used to fer sure._

He and Hotaru had been working together, taking out youma in job lots. This bunch were weaker than normal, she'd mentioned, but while they weren't that tough individually, there were a lot of them.

More disturbingly, they seemed to recognize him, and they seemed right pissed that he was fighting them. _I don't wanna know what their deal is. I've gotten by for years not knowing what their deal is. I sleep good not knowing what their deal is. _He repeated his mental mantra, and tried to ignore the shouts and cries of the youma – curses in a language he'd never heard before yet somehow understood perfectly.

Another one charged him, arms outstretched, screaming in that strange tongue, "Anung Un Rama! Why do you stand against us?"

"Shaddup!" He shouted, putting two silver bullets into its torso. At this range, even he couldn't miss.

"They seem most interested in this street," said Hotaru in the strange, detached tone she used while in uniform.

"Well, that noodle shop looks good. I bet they're hungry, comin' all this way."

"That, too," she said, bisecting one of the things with her glaive. Hellboy was impressed with that thing, it fairly screamed with power, and the Youma went out of their way to stay out of her reach.

"Almost to the portal this bunch're using. Can you shut it down, or will we haveta improvize?"

"I should be able to close the portal."

The fight raged up half a block as they approached the tear in reality from which the youma spilled. Most of them managed some curse or scream at Hellboy before being dropped, though some did not even achieve that as the two closed the last few feet. Hellboy emptied his last few chambers into the portal as Hotaru prepared to seal it, keeping those on the far side honest. As the rift sealed itself, he reloaded. "One more down. Any bets on how many more there are to go?"

Her response was dronwed out by a blast of power. A golden beam slammed into Hellboy from one side and sent him flying into – and halfway through – a parked car, the metal twisting around him and pinning his massive form in place, arms held too tightly to get any leverage.

Hotaru turned towards the source of the blast. An unfamiliar blonde stood at the mouth of an alley, glowing sword in hand, clad in an outfit reminiscent of Schwarze's. "A Bradeson, I presume?"

The mage stepped forth, sword held at the ready. "My name is Garm Byron, and I am the mage who is going to kill you. Engel Schwarze is my best friend, and I will not forgive what you and your bitch friends did to him."

"Do you truly wish to do battle with me?" asked Sailor Saturn in a voice all but devoid of passion.

"Well, I'll take on all of you twats if I have to, but you'll do for a start." Garm sneered, raised his sword to a ready stance. "My friends will be dealing with yours shortly."

Saturn brought the Silence Glaive to a similar ready position, shifted her stance. "Then come, fool, and seek your revenge."

The blonde mage charged, sword glinting with an inner fire as power surged within it. He feinted a high strike, then spun, blade dipping low to disembowel the slight girl he faced. "Saber Lash!"

"Silence Wall," she said, casting the protective spell. The mage's blade crashed home, and a bright blast of magical energy washed against it. It did not penetrate. The mage lept back, eyes wide.

"How-?"

"You look upon what I did to your friend and believe I am a fool, because for all the power I posses I did not slay him." She smiled coldly. "I used but a fraction of my power, all that I could without destroying this city. He was impressive in withstanding even that."

Garm's ruddy face went pale as he realized she took a step towards him.

"You, I think, are not his equal. Let us test that." She charged, the Silence Glaive cleaving the air with a sound like a grumbling thunderhead. Garm's sword parried the first blow, then the second, but he fell back against both attacks. The third chopped through the blade of the Bradeson's sword, and he stumbled backwards, falling.

The Silence Glaive raised high, began to descend. "Silence Glaive Surprise."

Desperately, Garm thrust forth the bladeless hilt, casting a protective spell. "Panzer Bunker!" As with Schwarze, it created a nearly-opaque wall of power. But for all his considerable mystic skill, Garm did not have the Black Angel's raw power. The shield could not withstand an attack of such magnitude, and the Silence Glaive cleaved through it like a broadsword through cheese.

The resultant explosion shook the street, sending concrete and asphalt flying in all directions. The shockwave crushed the fascia of the nearest buildings, shattered windows and set off car alarms for a three-block radius.

Hellboy finally disentangled himself from the car he'd been smashed through and watched the dust clear. It slowly revealed Sailor Saturn, Silence Glaive held at port arms, looking into a crater. Of her foe, he could see no sign.

"Damn," the American Demon muttered when as he walked towards her. "Remind me to never piss you off."

Saturn's smile held a hint of true humor as she replied. "Fair enough."

Hellboy cocked his head at an angle as he listened. "Sounds like there's some more of 'em a couple blocks thataway, heading towards us."

"Let them come."

--------------

"General, the first wave is ready to teleport in."

"Excellent. We've given the demons and Enforcers the head start they wanted. Begin deployment."

--------------

The first sign Ryoga had that more baddies had shown up was an energy blast nearly parting his hair. Instinctively he ducked, throwing the Youma he'd been fighting upwards. It caught a few of the blasts and vanished the way they tended to. He looked down the street, saw what looked like a dozen men in space-age armor with guns. "Ranma! We got company!"

"I saw 'em," he said, charging. "_Moko Takabisha!_" The blue-white blast caught one of the armored figures in the midsection, sent it crashing to the pavement. The other armored figures ducked for cover, sending a spray of fire towards the martial artists. The three teens managed to elude the wild fire, sending a few blasts in reply as they dove for cover.

"Now what?" asked Mousse.

"Same as always, we stomp 'em." Ranma stole a glance over the car they had taken refuge behind, then dove away. "Scatter!"

An energy bolt tore the car in half. Ranma was scrambling erratically to the left, Mousse to the right. _That leaves down,_ thought Ryoga, and stabbed a finger into the pavement. The Breaking Point blew a great gout of asphalt and concrete into the air, and he dropped below the street. Taking a moment, he pressed a hand against the side of his makeshift foxhole, let the ki trace him a path... elsewhere. _Water main to the right... feels like power cables just below... but nothin' but fill material ahead._

Somewhat more selectively, he pushed forward. Concrete crumbled beneath his touch and he tore a rough path below the street, hearing the sound of gunfire and ki blasts from overhead, muffled by the street. After about a dozen yards he paused, pressed his hand against the roof. _They're about five feet above, still moving... Here goes nothing. _Pushing as much ki into it as he could, he punched upward.

The power-armored invaders had broken into half-squads, each trying to get a good bead on one of their attackers. The red-and-black clad one had done some damage with his blasts- clearly a mage of some sort – but hadn't managed to penetrate anyone's armor. The other one lashed out with a variety of bladed weapons, some of them attached to chains. They didn't do much more than bounce off armor, not doing much more than scruff the finish. Then one of those chains wrapped around a soldier's armored limb, and the robed mage yanked back with impossible strength, sending him hurtling through the air.

Half a second later, the street exploded beneath the feet of his fireteam. Only their sergeant managed to keep his feet, and he was treated to the sight of the third mage – who they'd _thought_ they'd killed in the initial exchange of fire – burst from the ground and land lightly on the heaving pavement. He whipped up his gun – Ryoga saw it was connected to the armor by a long cable - but didn't manage to line up a shot before the bandana'd stranger stabbed out with a single finger. It slammed into the cuirass of his armor with enough force to send him sprawling, but didn't mark it.

Ryoga swore as he yanked back his hand. That actually _hurt_, and the Breaking Point didn't seem to do anything... He dove for one of the still-sprawled enemies, yanked it around as a member of the other fireteam opened up on him. A few blasts crashed into his impromptu shield, and then he dove behind cover, still holding most of an armored enemy. He took a moment to push his _ki_ into the armor.

Ryoga had made use of the Breaking Point many times, and had learned what things felt like inside, the better to break them. Whatever this armor was made of, it felt distinctly unnatural. It felt a little like steel, but also a bit like some kind of ceramic. And whatever it was, the chestpiece at least didn't have anything he could latch onto with the Breaking Point. He swore again and bounded behind something else as his cover got blown up. He needed a plan.

A flurry of panicked shots rang out across the street. Up and over he bounded, landing next to Ranma, who was using one enemy as a makeshift club against his fellows. The fanged boy grabbed at another – their guns, at least, were made of something he could Break – and flung him into the pack he'd attacked just prior, sending them sprawling once more.

He and Ranma laid into the fireteam in whose midst they stood, crushing weapons and slamming foes around with general mayhem intent. After a few moments of that – these guys were good in a gunfight, but they didn't seem to do well up close – they joined Mousse in working over the others. The Chinese Amazon, being of a more... pragmatic... bent than the two Japanese, had blades in each hand, and by way of main strength had thrust them through joints in their foes armor, cutting at limbs and necks.

Ranma seemed about to say something in protest, the he looked at the mangled joints on the armor of a foe he had downed. He said nothing, exchanging nods with the Chinese youth. The three martial artists took to the rooftops, in search of more opponents.

------------------

Haruka and Michiru easily switched from fighting Youma to fighting armored soldiers, blade and spells working havoc on them. It wasn't entirely one-sided, though. Haruka had taken a hit from one of their guns. The protective magics woven into her fuku prevented her from being injured too seriously, but she'd gotten flash-burns from the blast on her arms and, it felt, her belly.

_Still, _she thought, _this is going in our favor so far._ She ducked inside the reach of another of the invaders, slashed upward. Her Space Sword took off a limb, and the invader fell. Another tried to run. Haruka started to gather energy.

_"Deep Submerge!"_

When the tide of the spell faded, Haruka looked back at her lover with a smile. "I had him, you know."

"Of course you did," she replied. "But we only have so much time."

She was about to reply when another voice interrupted her. "A lot less than you think, witch."

The two Senshi glanced up at the source of the voice. Two men stood atop the nearest building, both clad in jackets and body armor similar to what Schwarze had used. One of them had what looked like a rifle slung over his shoulder, the other a heavy, spike-knuckled gauntlet. "Who are you?"

"Friends of Engel Schwarze, witch," began Gauntlet. "My name is Vincent Black, and my partner here is Garelli Frera. But as far as you're concerned, we're the wrath of the gods themselves, and the last living things you're ever gonna see. Hope you've made peace with your gods, 'cause you're gonna be joining them soon." Vincent charged, leaping off the rooftop and roaring towards Haruka, a shroud of jade-coloured energy sheathing his gauntleted fist. _"Storm Knuckle Blast!"_

The short-haired Sehshi bounded out of his way, charging up a spell of her own as he slammed, fist first, into the pavement in an explosion of concrete and asphalt. _"World Shaking!" _Yet more debris headed skyward.

Before she could get a good look at the results of her attack, another blast, this one a paler green, lanced towards her. She managed to dodge it, glared at Garelli as the mage tried to line up another shot. This would be interesting.

_"Deep Submerge!"_

The sniper vanished from Haruka's sight beneath Michiru's blast of aquatic power. Haruka smiled. These both seemed less powerful than Schwarze had been, and she'd already gotten one in on Vincent. Speaking of... the gauntleted mage was walking out of the hole their blasts had dug, bare hand brushing some dust off his overcoat.

"Not bad, girl. Not bad at all." Energy crackled around his gauntleted fist. "But I'm better." Suddenly, he blurred, and then there were half a dozen of him. They all moved towards her, some walking, others flying, trying to flank her. She couldn't tell who the real one was. But that, she thought, wouldn't be much of a problem.

"Nice party trick. Hey, Michiru?"

The teal-haired Senshi produced her mirror. From her position half a block away, she spun towards the pack of Vincents. _"Submarine Refl-"_

A blast interrupted her as Garelli took another shot. Well. Haruka could deal with these illusions herself then...

---------------

The battle on the ground seemed to be proceeding, from what the Admiral could tell. The natives had been caught off-guard in Tokyo, and it had taken quite some time for them to rally. Now, they had, and from the snippets passing through the comm net, it sounded like they were putting up a spirited resistance. Still, in the end it would do them no good, he was sure. Kallson glanced over at the Infinity Circuit. Beryl and the two junior summoners assigned to assist her were still bringing Youma into the battlefield. Eventually, they would wear down the mortal defenders.

He wore an expression of nonchalance as he walked around the Bridge, checking various displays. There was little for him to do, at this point, except monitor the situation. Once Tokyo fell, and the World Tree was under their control, it would be time to hijack the planet's communications again.

The Mage-Admiral paused at the Signals station. "Lieutenant Maturin, are you observing the indig news?"

"Yes, sir," said the other man. "Most of the major news networks are covering the battle, though for the most part they seem to be sharing footage from about four sources inside the city."

"Good," replied the Admiral, and he walked on. If the world watched Tokyo fall to their might, it would hopefully convince the rest of these people to surrender. Like General Jiiral, he had no desire to waste soldiers, though for reasons, perhaps, that those soldiers might be less enamored of. The general's motives were personal, from his attachment to the men and women he commanded. Kallson's own grew from his desire for efficiency.

He shook his head for a moment, clearing it. Little though there was for him to do until the end of the battle, it was not a time to fall into ruminations. It would hardly be professiona-

His train of thought was interrupted by the tech at the sensor board. "Mage-Admiral! Multiple unknown capital ships jumping into the system!"

------------

Chrono's eyes widened as the tactical board resolved itself. There were a lot of them over there, and his confidence that they'd brought enough ships eroded slightly. There were a good forty ships out there. He grimaced as he manipulated the scanners. He'd learned well, over the years, how to get the most out of the things; influence of his wife. Those skills let him wring a lot of data out of the scans, and quickly.

Five of the ships looked to be transports of some kind, and thirteen others extremely light combatants – destroyers or, at best, light cruisers. But that left twenty heavy- or battlecruisers and three battleships. This was going to be... interesting.

He felt more than heard someone walk up behind him, glanced over his shoulder. Nanoha said, "How bad is this?"

"Don't know yet, but it certainly isn't good. They've got numbers on us, and we don't know much about their tech, what they're capable of. And it looks like they're painting us with their targeting systems, which is not exactly a good sign."

"Can you see what's going on on Earth?"

"I haven't looked yet, Nanoha. I've been trying to see what the fleet is up against, and looking for signs of the _Miriel._" His hands ran over the controls. "There's definitely something going on. I'm detecting plasma discharges and high energy magic in Japan. Looks like Tokyo." He glanced up. "Signals! See if you can't tap into the groundside comms."

"Aye, Admiral," replied the signals officer. "Admrial... Admiral Havelok has opened communications with the enemy flag."

-----------------

Mage-Admiral Kallson gave his opposite number a measuring look. She was a thin, severe looking woman, dark of eye and hair. And her speech left no questions of her intent. "This is Admrial Havelok of the Time-Space Administration Bureau Navy. This world is under our protection. Identify yourself and state your purposes here?"

"I am Mage-Admiral Kallson of the Bradeson Navy. We found no evidence of any 'protection' when we arrived, Admrial, and are dealing with this world as we see fit. I have no intention of breaking off out activities here simply because a stranger asked nicely." He had a numerical advantage over his foe, he knew, and he trusted in the training of his officers. The enemy force's formation looked ragged to his professional eye, as if that fleet was less well trained.

Havelok's expression hardened. "In that case we shall force you to leave." The communications cut out.

"Admiral!" cried one of his sensor officers. "The enemy fleet is beginning to target us."

"Signal the _Piotre _to redirect its jammers against this fleet, rather than the planetary systems, and prepare for battle."

--------------

Chrono shook his head. "Well, that went about as well as I expected."

"Signal from fleet flag, Admiral," began the signals officer, "We are ordered to begin an attack on the enemy fleet and deploy the ground forces we have aboard."

"Very well. Signal the squadron and go to action stations."

Suddenly, the sensor display was devoured by static. "What in the..." muttered Chrono as he turned back to it. He swore. "Signals! Can you get through to any of the other ships?"

"Negative Admiral. I can't cut through this jamming."

"Find a way," he said, then turned the sensors back over to their normal operators. "Tactical! Can you get a lock on the enemy ships?"

"Barely, sir."

"Then engage the nearest enemy vessel. Hopefully the rest of the squadron will follow our lead."

Quietly, Nanoha asked, "Will we be able to teleport down?"

"I don't think so. Whatever their jammers are doing, it's messing up the long range scans as well as the comms. We don't have the sensor resolution to safely teleport you into the city."

"What about above it? Most of us can fly."

"That might work."

------------

Teana Lanster swallowed as the teleporter swept her up. _This is not one of the wiser things I've done_ she thought to herself. Then the teleporter let her go and the bottom dropped out of the world.

Tokyo lay below her in a panorama – one that was blessedly interrupted by a band of blue just below her feet. She stumbled on the Wing Road, but did not fall. She gave Subaru a grateful nod.

There was another teleport flash and the rest of their group appeared. Scrya, Vita, and the Senshi. The Senshi seemed a little unsteady this high up, but to Teana's eye none looked like they were about to fall out of the sky, though Usagi looked a little green.

_I probably do to._

Nanoha glanced around the group, making sure everyone was there. "All right. You know what to do. And remember, this city is full of civilians and we can't separate them out with a Barrier without support from the ships."

Yuuno nodded. "I'll concentrate on getting those civilians out of harms way."

"Good. All right, everyone, move out." Nanoha took off like a shot, descending towards the city center at high speed. Vita and Signum close in her wake. Shamal and Yuuno took a different tack, aiming for a set of buildings on fire. Schach hesitated a moment, then followed Signum.

"Are you two gonna be able to make it down safe?" asked Minako.

Subaru gave her a thumbs up. "Oh yeah. I got a plan."

The wind whipping past at such speed to make her eyes water, Teana tried to watch where they were going. She was riding piggyback as Subaru screamed down a Wing Road at speed. She could hear the brakes build into Mach Caliber groan as they tried to keep the two mages from going so fast they ran out of road. Given that they were still about a hundred feet over the rooftops, that would not be a pleasant experience.

They'd flown over several skirmishes between invaders and defenders, but so far Subaru didn't seem to have picked a fight for them to intervene in, continuing to shed altitude. Teana looked around, and spotted two mages fighting a few of the Senshi. _Subaru, I think I just spotted a good place for us to pop in._

_I see it too. Hang on, I don't think this is going to be a graceful landing._

------------

Garelli lined up another shot at his teal-haired target. They'd been sniping at each other back and forth for several minutes now, neither managing to get the upper hand but managing to do some fairly impressive damage to the surrounding rooftops. She was probably his match in power, and skilled enough to keep him on his toes. Her friend was holding her own against Vincent, which was quite the trick, but she'd tire eventually. As far as this went, he was sure he'd manage to nail the witch eventually.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye; turned. He had a brief view of a strange chick in cutoffs and a belly shirt rocketing towards him before she was upon him, one arm slamming across his neck and bodily hauling him out of his shooting crouch. Startled and with the breath knocked out of him, he couldn't react before she adjusted her grip and slammed him into the rooftop, using him as a brake on her hurtling speed.

He kicked out, connected, and tried to haul himself to his feet, vision swimming. That had _hurt_. Behind her, he could see another girl drawing a bead on him with paired pistols. "Who the fuck are you two?"

The dark haired girl smiled. The gauntlet on her right hand released a chuff of smoke and began building up power. He lept away as she charged him again, caught a blast from her friend on a shield. He shouted, "Vincent! A little help here!"

Haruka was holding her own against the gauntleted mage and his illusions, but struggling. If she had _time_ she could tell what was an illusion and what wasn't... but she didn't have that time. She was giving ground as she fought, trying hard to avoid being cornered or backed into a wall. At least the bastard didn't seem to have any ranged attacks, relying entirely on his gauntlet and illusions. But they were enough for now... and she just wasn't used to long fights. He was wearing her down, and he knew it. If she could just find the _real_ one for five seconds...

"_Submarine Reflection!"_ Michiru's attack washed over the street, obliterating six of the seven invaders and sending the last one, the real one, sprawling.

"What the-! Garelli!"

"Your friend has troubles of his own," said Michiru, dropping to the street beside Haruka. "And now, so do you."

Vincent sized up the situation and tried to take the better part of valor, summoning up more illusions as he did. The pack had only just begun to separate when Michiru blasted them all away again. Off balance, watching the wrong way, and in a panic, the next was almost a foregone conclusion.

"_World Shaking!"_ The blast caught him full on, knocking him unconscious.

A band of blue energy flashed by them, and a moment later Subaru Nakajima bounced off of it, spinning to a stop on the pavement. The other mage was unconsious, tied hand and foot, and slung over her shoulder. "Nice work." She deposited Garelli unceremoniously on the pavement.

"Thanks. And for the help."

"Our pleasure," said Teana as she jogged down the Wing Road. "Let's secure the other one and find some more targets."

----------

Ranma threw a soldier into another halfway across the street, sending them down in a tangle of limbs. They'd been fighting almost constantly for over an hour now, and he was beginning to tire. This was getting insane. He was making decent headway against this pack, though he was spending most of his time dodging fire – their rayguns were coming closer than he liked. And they were hot to the touch when he tried to yank them away from the suckers.

Still, he could wreck the guns okay, and he could mess up the bad guy's armor without killing them, most of the time. Not quite as well as Ryoga, who seemed to have found some way to Breaking Point the armor at the joints, but well enough for the moment.

Mousse was wreaking wholesale havok on the bastards. He was hanging onto one of them, using the armored body as a human shield with one hand, and slinging around its raygun with the other. He wasn't a great shot, but he was making up his lack of accuracy of fire with volume. Every so often he had to... swap shields... as the one he was using got chewed up.

Ranma throttled thoughts of protest. He didn't like to kill... but he was under no illusions that his approach was in any way 'gentle.' _Think about that later. Win the fight now._

--------------

Setsuna glanced around the street, looking for a way out. None presented itself in the face of almost fifty of the armored invaders. She and the Amazon had dealt with several smaller groups, but not yet this many at once, and she had a sinking feeling that there was going to be rather too much fire directed at her in a moment. _This seems an inglorious end,_she thought.

_"Mars Fireblast BOMB!"_

From above and behind her a large sphere of flame roared down, slamming amidst one of the squads of troops, enveloping it in a mighty explosion that sent invaders flying. Setsuna blinked, then looked back.

Descending out of the sky were the Inner Senshi, all wielding staves and in the midst of casting spells. Trailers of flame dropped away from Rei, presumably leftovers from her spell. Relief flooded Setsuna's system – if _they_ were here, the TSAB must be, too, which meant they had a chance. Spells ripped away from the Senshi, and Setsuna looked back at the invaders to watch havok wrought among them.

Makoto`s strong voice was next. _"Jupiter Thunder Rage!"_ Several bolts of green-tinged lightning ripped from her staff, slamming into and around the invaders. The bolts that struck soldiers lanced away, arcing from one armored figure to the next in an extended, if random, pattern of destruction.

Usagi was next, voice holding more confidence than Setsuna was used to. _"Moon Silver Flame!"_ Lances of incandescent silver light washed down over several invaders in rapid succession, leaving patches of witchfire to play across ground and armor in their wakes.

At this point, the invaders began to take umbrage at this assault, raising their weapons and opening fire. Setsuna was about to shout a warning when she realized they'd noticed. _"Wide Area Protection!" _incanted Minako, and a wall of purple energy formed between Senshi and invaders. Energy blasts splashed and burst against it, leaving small explosions in their wake.

Finally Ami added to the exchange of spells. _"Mercury Blizzard Wave!" _Shards of ice began to lash at the invaders, freezing against their armor and cracking the metal. She held the storm over them for most of a minute, leaving the twenty-odd soldiers still standing looking like they'd spent days in an arctic storm, every surface encased in thick ice.

The Inner Senshi set down around Setsuna and Cologne. The Senshi of Time noted, absently, that their apparel was slightly different, each girl having acquired a long-sleeved vest of some sort. Knowing her eyes were wild, knowing her jaw was hanging open, Setsuna looked from one girl to the next, trying and failing to find the words.

"Sorry we're late," said Usagi, visibly restraining herself from cracking up. "Let's save our city."

-------------

"Mage-Admiral, we're getting reports of enemy re-enforcements on the ground."

Kallson glanced up from the tactical display. "Send the report to this console, Signals."

Beryl's eyes narrowed as she saw him begin to read. _What is he looking at? _she wondered. It took only the smallest effort to ease her consciousness into that display herself, for she had made good time exploring the magical circuits that were her new home.

There were two groups displayed. One, she did not recognize, four mages in unfamiliar garb. The other, she recognized indeed. _The Inner Senshi._ She smiled cruely. _My revenge will be complete this day._

--------------

One of the oldest truisms of combat is that nothing is more dangerous on the battlefield than a junior officer with a map. It was certainly a truism that Juno Squad held to.

So when Lieutenant Kraal, an Academy boy so new he still squeaked on occasion, popped out a holo-map of the city just after they landed, he'd damned near become a friendly fire accident. But he'd picked a good route through this yokel town, and avoided getting them stuck in with the yokel military and mages, so Kraal got to live.

And it seemed like his squads' trust was paying off. They'd actually made it to their objective. Currently, they were inside a downright peaceful woods, just inside the protective wards. In the distance, they could see the World Tree they'd come here for.

Kraal tried to raise Higher. "Juno Squad to Regiment, come in... Juno Squad to Regiment." A pause. "Juno Squad to anyone who is receiving." Another, longer pause.

Sergeant Duncan said, "We must be the first group through the wards, sir."

"I suppose. Thank you, Sergeant." The young officer looked around, spent a moment thinking as the squad mostly surveyed the surrounding foliage for threats.

"Well, if we're first, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to scout around a bit, yes?" The Lieutenant glanced at Duncan as he asked, and the grizzled old noncom nodded. "Men, break into fireteams and sweep the area. Two-hundred meter sweep, then report."

The squad broke into fireteams and began walking. Kraal tried to keep himself calm, his hands steady, but it was hard. He was first! That would _have _to count for something when the mission was over! The sort of initiative and leadership that got one promoted ahead of schedule!

A report squawked over the squad net. "Boss, I got somethin' here."

"What is it, Corporal?"

"Looks like a small house. Two stories, reading a decent-strength magic signature in there."

"Reading anything alive in there?"

"Nothin, Ell-Tee. Quiet as a grave."

Kraal mulled that over for a moment. "All units, converge on Corporal Keller's position. We'll take that place over and see if we can't turn it into a decent field command post for the Major, whenever he catches up."

The power-armored soldiers moved through the forest quickly and quietly, surrounding the small house. It didn't have any life readings, but even without the telltale thin smoke rising from the chimney, it had a feel of a place people lived in. "Guess the owner's out," muttered one of the soldiers.

"Okay, men, move in," said the Lieutenant. Cautiously the squad moved up in a bounding overwatch, sensors ranging from the suit's inbuilt RADAR and MIDAR to the good old MK. 1 Eyeball sweeping the house, clearing, and woods. It seemed safe.

They reached the house, found a back door. "Keller, open it."

One power-armored boot later, the door splintered inward. The Corporal started to step inside, then stopped abruptly, cursing.

From inside the house came a calm voice. "Whyever did you do that to my door?"

Kraal uplinked the view from Keller's helmet to his HUD. A small, pale girl in an elegant dress was walking around a table, frowning at the Corporal and carrying a small doll.

"You are such poor guests," she said in that same tone. The hair on the back of Kraal's neck tried to stand on end within the armor's confines. There was something in her voice... she was not guessing that Keller had friends with him, she _knew_.

"Stop right there, kid. I don't want to hurt you. Just get out of our way and you'll be fine."

The child laughed. It was not a good sound.

Juno Squad, veterans all, froze for a moment. Then Keller's gun snapped up and he opened fire. Half a second later a blast hit him and he flew back from the doorway, sans about half his chest. A puppet with a meat cleaver flew after him, laughing with a disturbingly happy voice.

"That was a mistake," said the girl in the tones of an alpha predator. "You're not going to enjoy this, but I am."

----------------

Garret Kyler settled his mech's crosshairs on the center of the yokel tank's bow, ignoring its main cannon. The tank's gun thundered, recoil pushing the heavy armored vehicle back on its suspension, and his mech's armor rang like a hammer-struck bell. A glance at the readouts- more from habit than anything else – showed that he was more or less undamaged. He waited half a moment for his crosshairs to stabilize again, and fired his plasma cannons in reply. Twin beams of incandescent fire converged on the tank, vaporizing most of the front half of the yokel vehical.

They were stubborn fighters, these 'JSDF' but their weapons were primitive. It took the heaviest guns they had – those in their tanks – to have a decent shot against the Shellheads in their power armor, and they didn't seem to have a damned thing that could scratch a Siegebreaker mech.

But they had rallied much of their forces here – on the outskirts of the 'Imperial Palace' - and were defending it with a tenacity that approached the fanatic. It was impressive, noble, and gallant... and ultimately, futile. But the soldier in him respected them as soldiers.

He walked his war machine down the boulevard, looking for another target. Ahead, he spotted a half-melted tank. The yokel armor was designed to deal mostly with kinetic and explosive attacks, not thermal damage. A couple Shellheads could melt the fucking things with sustained plasma carbine fire.

Still. The locals fought like jackwolves. It was going to be a long and painful streetfight to beat them, even if the outcome wasn't in doubt.

His radio crackled. "Kyler here."

"Garret, Delta platoon is calling for assistance. They've run into some mages and are getting thrashed."

"Where the fuck are the Enforcers?"

"Hellfino. We can't raise 'em."

"Figures. Shoulda guessed the wunderkind would leave the heavy lifting to us. Gimmie a vector, Ell-tee, and I'll go bail out some Shellheads."

------------------

Revy grunted as the massive Steyr kicked into her shoulder, then crouch-ran to fresh cover as blizzard of raygun fire devoured the brickwork around her shooting spot.

They'd been trying to push their way to the harbor and the ship waiting there, the ridiculously illegal arsenal they'd brought along to deal with the pervert troll proving worth its weight in platinum. They'd made good headway through the monster horde, but then ran headlong into a bunch of sci-fi movie extras in some kind of full body armor. Full body armor that could shed the fire from her pistols, or even the Russian's AK-47s, with ease. Their heavier stuff, however, could give the bastards some trouble.

They were pinned down in a couple of buildings, doing their best to keep the other guys from moving in and rolling them over, and so far it had mostly worked. There were some rocket launchers brought along for the fun, a couple of Barretts, the Steyr she'd borrowed, and a lovingly maintained MA-Deuce that the Church of Violence crew had brought along. While none of the weapons seemed to be able to blow through the armor's chest-pieces, the anti-tank rockets could blow off limbs if you hit 'em right.

The Barretts and her Steyr weren't quite so spectacular, but it looked like they could penetrate the joints on the bad guy's armor on a good hit. She lined up just such a shot now, settling the Steyr's mass on its bipod and taking aim at a soldier who was poking over the berm the enemy were using on this side of the building, lining up her crosshairs on the seam where neck met shoulder. She tucked the Steyr in a little tighter and gently squeezed the trigger. With a little luck, the big armor-piercing round would live up to its name, and even if it didn't...

The rifle slammed into her shoulder as it fired. The 15.2 MM round slammed into the soldier, knocking him ass over teakettle. She rolled into another crouching run as his buddies tried to light her up, hauling the heavy IWS 2000 one handed. She wasn't sure if that had been a money shot, but either way, it would keep them from rushing the building for a few. Those guys weren't stupid, and were showing a healthy respect for their heavy weapons.

The last time they'd gotten close to those fuckers had been a disaster. Even at point-blank range, the armor shed AK-47 fire, and the ricochets had been nasty, wounding Eda and two of Balalaika's goons. Sawyer had gotten hurt bad too, but that was more or less self inflicted. She'd tried to nail one of the fuckers with her chainsaw, which had done dick-all to the armored soldier and snapped the chain. It had whipped back and taken a big chunk out of her shoulder, and cut up her throat some more. The only reason she was still alive was Shenhua hauling her ass out of that charlie-foxtrot and bandaging her up.

Revy poked her head into the storeroom where Balalaika had set up shop. "We got a way out of here yet?"

Boris glanced up from their map of Tokyo, Balalaika did not. "Not just yet. We're waiting for scouts to get back. Keep those _c__волочи_off our backs."

---------------

Chrono's teeth gritted as _Claudia _shuddered beneath him. Their foes were massing their fire with admirable precision, and without an effective comm net there was no way to reply in kind. They couldn't get the whole picture – they couldn't even see the rest of the _squadron_ on their sensors, to say nothing of the fleet – but what they could see looked grim. His hands danced over the sensor board as he wracked his brains for a clue on how to beat this.

He wasn't a sensor specialist by training, but he'd lived with one for years and had learned. Alongside _Claudia_'s normal sensor operator he should have been able to solve this quickly. He hadn't, and at least two ships in the fleet had been lost already. He leaned back for a moment, rubbing at his temples and willing his head to clear. _What am I missing here?_

He'd tried every refinement he could think of, and nothing could cut through the magical and electric hash. More electric than magic, now that he thought about it. In fact, everything he'd seen of these Bradesons so far suggested to him that they skewed closer to technology than magic. _I wonder..._

He returned to the sensor board, and disabled the RADAR, LIDAR, and gravitics, leaving only the scrying array, and to that he channeled all of the ship's normal sensor power.

On the display, one of the enemy cruisers suddenly lept into focus. Chrono's smile was savage. "Power up the Arc En Ciel."

The Bradeson Navy ship _Piotre_ hung in low orbit, well back from the main battle. She was an electronic warfare cruiser, her weapons were not weapons at all, but a vast array of jammers, signal amplifiers, and anti-scrying devices. She was designed to screw up the other side's communications and targeting ability, weather their sensors were rooted in mundane physics, esoteric quantum physics, or magic. She was doing her job with gusto today.

They were hanging well back from the main battle for their own safety. The _Piotre_ wasn't a terribly tough cruiser, in the grand scheme of things, and due to her roll on the battlefield, she would fast become a primary target if she were close enough to be noticed. Nobody liked having an EWAR ship around, unless it was on their side.

The captain smiled as he stretched out in his chair. His part of the battle was going well, even if these strangers were a hell of a lot tougher than they'd been led to expect by their superiors. Still, it was always that way, wasn't it? The higher-ups never told the troops what what was going on. He smiled and rubbed absently at his goatee as he reviewed the sensor board beside his station. This was typical bullshit from Higher. But they'd mana-

An alarm warbled. From his station, the tactical officer shouted, "Captain! We're being painted by targeting MIDAR!"

"By who?" he asked incredulously. With the jammers banging away full belt, there was no way any of these TSAB should be able to-

The ship lurched suddenly, lights and power dying. There was a complicated thud-crack sound as someone was thrown – hard – from their station and into a bulkhead, followed moments later by a scream of pain. The emergency lights came on as the gravity failed, and the Captain grabbed at the arms of his chair as he quickly surveyed the bridge. The Magi/Tech co-ordinator for the targeting ECM array was curled into a fetal ball at the base of the port bulkhead, lower left arm bent at an impossible angle. Most of the others looked fine, though the pilot was drifting out of her seat, eyes unfocused, with the beginning signs of a nasty bruise on her forehead.

"What hit us?" the captain asked, glancing to the back of the bridge.

The tac officer's voice was shakey as he replied. "We were hit by some kind massive magical discharge, Sir. I think it was one of the enemy squadron command ships."

"Entropy!" the captain swore loudly, one hand stabbing at the comm. "Bridge to Engineering. What's our status?"

There were several long seconds with no reply, only the sound of the MTCO's moans breaking the silence. Then, "Not good, sir. Shield emitters are completely blown, half the power relays have shorted, we're flat out missing the primary antenna array, the drive is offline and the power plant's destabalized. What in the Great Null hit us?"

"We're still working on that. Get the core under control and get us back up and running. We have a battle to win." He cut the connection, turned to the tactical officer. "Are we in danger of being hit again?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Nothing in our brief even mentioned ground-to-space weapons capability." He paused. "And sir? The blast didn't actually hit the hull. It went clean through both the dorsal and ventral shields, but it was clear of the hull itself by about ten meters. What we felt was just the backlash off the shields."

There was a long moment of silence as the Captain tried to parse that. A _near miss_ did this to them? "Gods below..."

At the helm, the pilot had pulled herself together. "Captain... We have a problem."

He couldn't help himself from muttering, "Another one?" as he turned to the front of the bridge. "What is it?"

"Our orbit is destabalizing. We're falling out of orbit."

Another moment of silence. The Captain wasn't sure who broke it with a whispered 'Entropy.'

------------

_Nanoha, we've cleared the jamming. Marines are incoming._

_ Thank you Chrono, they will be much appreciated._

-----------

Konatsu's hands danced between the various pouches concealed in his clothing, taking inventory. It wasn't good; the few little tricks he had that actually worked on these armored soldiers were more or less gone, which rather limited his options. He was even out of stuff that had worked on the youma. His ninja-to had gotten broken half an hour ago when he tried to go for a hamstring, and for some reason, unlike his beloved Ukyo, the weapons Akane was producing wouldn't work for him, vanishing the moment he picked one up.

Having seen what those weapons could do, he was rather disappointed by that. The one Ukyo was using had... _changed_ from a mallet into something that almost resembled one of her battle spatulas over the last hour. The one Shampoo had looked like a traditional Greatmace. Amazing properties, those things had. And the amount of damage the ladies were doing to their foes was impressive. To the point where he felt rather superfluous, even before he'd broken his sword.

_Out. Out isn't good. Is there anything around here that might work?_ His eyes settled onto one of the fallen soldiers and his gear. From previous experience, they knew the big guns didn't work if you unhooked them from the armor, but perhaps there was something else....

Quickly he went through the soldier's ruck, checking through various pouches. Unrecognizable round things... candy bar... something that looked like a tire-patch kit... flask... Hello, what's this?

From a pouch just over the soldier's hip he pulled out something that looked like a pistol. It was a bit bulky and oversized, being designed, he presumed, to be fired while held in heavy gauntlets, but it wasn't too heavy. He wasn't exactly familiar with guns, firearms not being part of a traditional kunoichi's kit, but he'd used a handbow a few times, and, well, needs must when the devil drives.

It helped the decision that the weapon's lines were smooth and elegant despite its bulk, and that it had a lovely, burnished bronze finish that the pseudo-kunoichi knew would go nicely with one of his spare uniforms. A little more digging found what appeared to be clips of some kind, which he slipped into a pocket, and the pistol itself tucked into his sash. He ran to catch up with the others.

--------------

Akane spun in close, putting extra oomph behind her swing, and was rewarded with a satisfying _clang_ as her hammer lifted one of the solders from its feet and sent it crashing into a wall. These guys just folded if you could get in close, and while she didn't have Ukyo's training in stealth, she did have two older sisters. She'd learned to sneak as a natural reflex.

She and Shampoo were doing most of the damage in this fight – Ukyo just couldn't match their raw strength, and that counted for a lot against armor. They were still making plenty of headway. Akane paused her train of thought for a moment as she smashed the gun out of one of the invader's hands, then followed up with another strike to the torso.

A shout of warning sent her diving for cover just ahead of a blast. An invader they hadn't spotted was spraying the street, trying to nail all three of them. A burst of Chinese profanity suggested he'd gotten close to Shampoo. A glance around her patch of cover brought Shampoo into sight, crouched behind a car and clutching at her leg. That wasn't good. The invader turned his attention to the Amazon's cover, seeking to finish the job.

Suddenly, a bolt of green light blasted into the soldier's torso, followed quickly by two more, one of those shots missing to the left. The invader crumpled. Akane glanced down the street and felt her jaw drop. Konatsu – always feminine and humble Konatsu – was standing posed like a Shonen hero, holding a very large gun.

She shook off the surprise, ran to Shampoo. "How bad?"

"Not get hit, but too-too close miss." Her entire lower leg looked sunburnt, a patch just below the knee looked worse, like she'd had it against a stove burner.

"Can you walk?"

"Of course can walk! Shampoo not weak!" She paused after her outburst. "Hurts much, though."

"We'll find a first aid kit."

--------------

The Bradeson forces had formed a cordon around the Imperial Palace, isolating it from re-enforcements. Tia-sa Hohiro Sakade peered around the edge of a battlement, picking out a target among the wreckage below, holding his anti-tank rocket launcher one handed for the moment.

They were fighting like the Samurai of legend, but these _gaijin_ fought like oni, and he was getting the feeling that they weren't going to be winning this fight. He burned with shame at the thought of these _gaijin_ penetrating the Imperial Palace, but he could not deny it. They could not save the Emperor, who had refused to leave. None of their small arms could do much of anything to the _gaijin_ armor, and their tanks, while more effective, tended to get blown apart the moment they engaged.

_Well, nothing to do but die with honor and take as many of them as possible with me,_ he thought as he raised the rocket launcher to his shoulder, taking careful aim. The anti-tank rocket streaked out, and he dove below the battlement to avoid the inevitable return fire. He heard and felt some of it hit the ancient stone, but the sound of impacts cut off sharply. _Odd._

He risked another glance over the wall, and swore quietly at what he saw.

Four female figures had appeared, and were scouring the invaders from the street below like adivine wind. One, red clad, wielded an impossibly large hammer and crushed the invader's armor like they were nothing but a child's toys. Another, in white, tore through them with a flaming sword. At her side was one with weapons he did not recognize, cutting down any who managed to avoid the sword.

And flying above it all, raining down hellfire, was a brunette in white, gold tipped spear in hand. Before his eyes, he saw one of the invader's seemingly invincible mecha unleash its wrath upon her, and she escaped unscathed. She replied to its assault with a brilliant, purple beam, which tore the mecha apart.

The four women, beautiful and terrible, marched up the street, destroying the massed invaders even more decisively than those invaders had destroyed his own men. Hohiro stood and cheered, breathed a prayer of thanks to the kamis for this deliverance.

----------------

"Mage-Admiral! The _Admiral Josef _has just been destroyed!"

The shout, coming from the Signals officer, was hardly the kind of professional report Kallson normally expected, but given the rather spectacular way that the battle had gone to the Ice Pits, he could hardly fault the man. He stood beside his Flag Captain, Lutjens, at the tactical plot, mind racing. "Acknowledged, Signals."

Kallson frowned, thinking hard. These strangers had more firepower than he'd guestimated at first blush. Without the advantage in command and control the _Piotre's_ ECM arrays had granted, his fleet was overmatched, and getting moreso by the minute. Checking the tactical repeater, he saw that the _Admiral Veer _was quite possibly not long for the multiverse either, her shields beginning to buckle under the sustained fire of a half-dozen TSAB battlecruisers. The rest of his order of battle was suffering as well – even as he watched, the last of the screen's destroyers vanished, killed by an enemy cruiser.

Frowning, he said, "At this point, I don't think we can realisticly win this battle, not without suffering unacceptable casualties. Lutjens, signal the transports to teleport their troops out. Then signal the fleet to begin a withdrawl as soon as the troops have been successfully recalled."

From the Infinity Circuit came an outraged shriek. _"WHAT?!"_ shouted Beryl, _"No! We cannot leave now!"_

The Mage-Admiral cast a cool gaze upon the ghost. "Without our EWAR assets, we cannot adequately disrupt the enemy's command and control. Without that advantage, this is not a battle that we can win, and I will not throw away the lives of the men and women under my command for the sake of your revenge."

_"Princess Serenity is down there! In the city below us! If you have not the will to finish this battle, at least end her! Turn these mighty guns onto them!"_

Kallson's gaze hardened, and on his shoulder, Togo's lips pulled back into a snarl. "If you had any grasp of our history, you would _never_ have suggested that we fire into a populated city."

_"My revenge-"_

"Hold your tongue, woman, if you do not want to be banished back into the darkness we pulled you from. I will not sacrifice my fleet for your revenge, nor commit attrocity for your pride." He turned away from the Infinity Circuit, growled instructions to his flag captain.

Queen Beryl could not recall when last anyone had dared to speak to her that way. Nor did it particularly matter to her. She had not escaped oblivion itself, and endured weeks of mewling subservience to these mortals to have revenge in her grasp and simply let it slip away. She was a master mage, hooked into a vast and complex array of systems whose very lifeblood was magic, and she had had little to do of late other than... explore.

She closed her spectral eyes and concentrated, reaching into the web of magic that ran through the ship. Comms, navigation, engineering... ah, there was her goal. The targeting systems. She pushed her will into those systems, lips pulling back into a predatory smile as she took control.

Alarms began to wail on the bridge. "Admiral!" began a woman, "Something is overriding the portside batteries!"

"What!?" Kallson's surprise lasted only a second, then he whipped around and glared at Beryl. Stabbing at a comm link he growled, "All portside gun crews, this is the Admiral. Disconnect your turrets from central control." He closed the comm line. "I give you points for stubborness, witch, but I will not let you disgrace my ship this way. Lieutenant Jerjerod, purge the Infinity Circ-"

Beryl turned her will for a moment into defence, and black lightning shot from the station she inhabited all through the bridge, stunning or killing outright most of its company. Smiling smugly, she returned her attention to the turrets, seeking to kill the gun crews before they could cut her off.

In most of the stations, the black lightning was faster than the crews. To willingly cut a turret out of the central targeting circuits in the middle of a battle was madness – they could opperate under local control, but not nearly as efficiently – and so most of those crews had been slow off the mark to begin the process. A few, well drilled, managed the task in time. In one of the turrets, the senior tech had been a grizzled old spacedog who had served under Kallson for most of two decades and had reacted to the unorthodox orders instantly. Not satisfied with meerly locking out the software, he'd torn open a panel and was in the midst of physically removing the targeting link when Beryl's lightning hit. It used him, and the circuits he held, as a path to ground, frying not only that turret's controls, but also those of the four nearest.

But she still had over half of the battleship's broadside under her control, and pointed those mighty guns towards the distant speck that was Tokyo at this range.

----------------

Usagi poked her head out from behind the wall she'd been using as cover. The sounds of gunfire had abruptly died off moments ago... and the street below looked empty. The squad of armored soldiers and their mecha were gone, and in the distance she could hear JSDF troops begin to whoop and cheer. Had they... just won?

_Anybody else's dance partners just run off?_ Came an uncultured telepathic voice. The general reply was hard to understand – many, many people talking at once – but positive. The soldiers were vanishing in job lots, and the demons had been mostly defeated already.

"We did it!" shouted Rei from another rooftop, across the street. The Miko turned towards Makoto, and the two exchanged high-fives. Usagi felt herself smile... but she couldn't quite shake an uneasy feeling.

The cheering cacophony of the telepathic communications abruptly ceased, interrupted by a franting contact. _Admiral Havelok to all TSAB forces groundside. Priority alert – get yourselves out of Tokyo, now! The enemy fleet's flagship is targeting the city. We will attempt to destroy her, but we cannot prevent her from firing._

Usagi felt herself go ashen, looked skyward. She couldn't see anything, not at this distance, but she didn't need to... she could _feel_ the truth of the statement. A spaceship shooting at a city... She had to run.

No. She could not run. Not from her home. Resolve welled up within her, and power flared. There was a blinding flash, and when it cleared she stood not in her fuku and barrier jacket, but in an elegant, floor-length gown. In her left hand she held Silver Song, no longer appearing as a simple crooked staff in pale white and silver, but long and elegant, one end tipped with a sharp crescent moon. In her right she held the Millenium Silver Crystal. She held it to the center of the crescent, and it glowed with inner fire. She knew what she had to do.

_"Moon Protection Shroud!"_ She incanted, power flowing through her and into the staff. Overhead, a vast, translucent silver curtain of light formed, in an instant forming a protective dome over the city. It rippled slightly as it took shape, but she _willed_ it into form, ignoring the sounds of tortured electronics coming from Silver Song.

And then those sounds were drowned out as the sky above exploded.

Two thirds of a battleship's broadside fire crashed into the dome. The plasma cannons had not been designed to fire into an atmosphere, and some of their energy had been expended simply burning a hole through the air for the blasts to flow through. What remained of those plasma blasts liberated their energy against Usagi's shield, one hundred and twenty megatons of destructive force slamming down like the wrath of an angry god.

Usagi's ears were numbed by the fist of sound that struck her, but she held her feet, kept Silver Song upright, her will alone holding the Intelligent Device together as it tried to channel orders of magnitude more power than it was designed for. Power began to arc between her body and the upright staff like a Jacob's Ladder.

A second volley of plasma cannon fire hammered into the shield with another eye-searing blast. All but simultaneously an ear-pummeling fist of sound clouted her. Bracing herself with all her will and might, she remained standing. Silver Song shook in her hands, rattling apart, its moan of mechanical protest now a high, banshee shriek, but she forced her will upon it. _She had not come so far to fail her people!_

In the street, she saw Mamoru racing towards her, arms outstretched. _I will not fall. I dare not._

The curtain of light overhead began to ripple; she forced it into shape once more.

A third volley crashed down, and Usagi dropped to one knee, only her grip on her rooted staff keeping her from falling entirely. Through the pain-haze pushing in on her consiousness, she heard a mental exclamation. _The enemy flagship is destroyed!_ Admrial Havelok. _Is anyone still down there?_

_We are here, and we are safe,_ replied Usagi, last of her strenght failing as relief flooded her system. Still holding Silver Song, she toppled forward, off the edge of the roof. Through her stunned ears she vaguely heard Mamoru shouting her name, saw him rushing towards her even as she rushed towards the pavement.

The shield overhead vanished as Silver Song exploded.

Blackness.


	14. Epilogue

_Author's Note: As always, I make no claim on characters created by other authors. This is intended simply as entertainment and tribute._

Epilogue

_....beep....beep....beep....beep...._

Usagi Tsukino stirred slightly at the alarm. Why was there an alarm? It was summer holidays still. She didn't need to get up for school.

_....beep....beep....beep....beep...._

She tried to reach out for the alarm clock, but her arm didn't seem to want to move.

_....beep....beep....beep....beep...._

Her eyes fluttered open, at first showing nothing but a bright blur. After a moment, the room started to come into focus. She was lying on an unfamiliar bed, covered by a thin, green sheet. Halfway down the bed, she saw Mamoru. He was sleeping in a chair, slumped forward onto the mattress by her side. On her other side, she saw Chibiusa, curled up in a similar chair.

The other Senshi sat or lay on couches, all asleep. Why were they all in her room? And why did her head feel so... fuzzy?

Looking down at herself, she saw her arms and hands swathed in bandages, and what looked like an IV in the right arm. She looked at the walls again, saw things on the walls... she was in a hospital. Why-

The memory of the battle hit her then, knifing through the haze of pain and medication. _An attack, a ship... I used the Crystal..._

She must have made some noise or movement, for she saw Mamoru stir. He looked up, rubbing tired eyes, and then his gaze met hers.

With a wordless cry of delight that woke the others, he was out of his chair, hugging her close.

* * *

"So it worked? The bad guys are all gone?" Setsuna made no effort to hide her tears of joy as Usagi was brought up to speed. Her staff... Intelligent Device, the others had called it, had absorbed the lion's share of the Millennium Silver Crystal's power surge, saving Usagi's life as she had saved them all.

"Most of them," said Rei. "The ones still here got taken prisoner and stuff. We finished off the last of the Youma with some martial artists."

"How long was I out?"

"About three days. They couldn't heal you quicker than that. I didn't quite understand the reason... something about your system already being saturated with magic, and they couldn't force any more in for a healing spell."

The girl nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense. Shamal told me about that when she was training me..." She looked around the room again, seeming delighted that all her friends were here. "And none of us had to die this time. I like it when we save the world without dying."

"It's nice, isn't it?"

"What about Silver Song?"

Rei hesitated before answering. "They spent most of the first day picking pieces of her out of your arms and scalp, Usagi. They managed to recover the core, though, and Shario thinks they'll be able to fix her."

Usagi sighed in relief, laying back against the pillows. "I'm glad. How is the city?"

"There was a lot of damage, but it's being fixed." Rei smiled slightly. "Some good news there, Juuban High was one of the buildings that got totaled, and they don't think it'll be fixed before the end of break."

Usagi managed a quiet "Yay.."

"That said, there's some bad news. They're going to send you to a school that's still standing instead. Mine made it out sadly undamaged as well."

"Not fair..."

"I know. Sorry."

From the door was the sound of a sharply cleared throat. Setsuna glanced over, and saw the doctor, Shamal. "I realize that you want to stay and chat, but miss Tsukino is still very weak, and she needs her rest. You can come back later, but for now, let's please just let her sleep."

The Senshi quietly filed out, saying their goodbyes. Usagi managed a small wave.

Out in the hall, Setsuna moved next to Rei. "I notice you didn't mention that they had to shave her head to get all the shrapnel out of her."

"I figured that could wait until she's feeling better." The miko shrugged. "It'll grow back."

"Yes it will," said Setsuna. _And I dare say, it will grow back silver._

* * *

Evangeline was sipping at a hot cup of tea when Konoemon knocked on her door. One of her dolls let him in.

"I see you enjoyed yourself during that unpleasantness."

Her smile showed teeth. "You said I could deal with anything that made it onto the grounds, did you not?"

"I did. Still. An interesting day."

"Indeed. I wonder if the council has any idea how interesting."

"I doubt it. I suspect we shall see the normal world become more like the magical world as they begin to study what they've captured."

"And someday, they will find the magical world." Eva's smile was predatory. "I wonder... how will the council answer when asked 'why did you sit out the invasion?'"

* * *

Rear Admiral Joffery Hoss held the tumbler of amber liquid up to the light for a moment, pondering it before tossing it back. He grimaced as it traced fire down his throat.

They'd been running hard for three days, as much of the expeditionary force as had been able to extract when everything went to the Ice Pits. Out of forty ships, only twenty-two remained, most of those damaged. His own _Admiral Veer_ was in terrible shape, having suffered the attentions of most of an enemy squadron before they'd shifted their fire to the flag...

Gods below, what had Kallson been _thinking?_ Orbital bombardments were the stuff of bad fiction, something a cackling, flamboyantly-moustached madman would do, not the response of a long-service Admiral to a twist of fortune. _Tragic enough to read about in the histories of the Five Sided War, but to actually see it done... _he shuddered at the memory. They would likely never know what he'd been trying to accomplish, for the _Admiral Ander _had been lost with all hands, obliterated by a pair of the TSAB's stupendous supercannons, as well as the lesser weaponry of a dozen other ships.

Hoss poured himself another measure of liquor, sighing. _That will be his legacy now. One of the finest admirals in his generation, and all the historians will remember is that final atrocity._

Still. Command had passed to him with the loss of the _Ander_ and he had tried to keep their withdrawal from turning into a route and massacre. Largely, he had succeeded, and he believed they'd lost their pursuers a day previously. They'd continued to run until _Siege of Tesephony_'s drives failed again. It was something of an acid test, now. If the pursuit did not catch up before the transport could warp, they almost certainly were clear. Then it would be time to go home.

It had been a long time since the Republic had run into an enemy it could not simply crush like an egg. He wondered how the politicos and the Admiralty would react.

* * *

Yuuno Scrya felt like death warmed over.

The archivist felt like some mad drummer was using his skull for an extended solo as he staggered into the kitchen of the bed and breakfast the TSAB was renting as a temporary embassy, too hung over to manage enough of a healing spell to make the pain go away.

"Morning, Ferret Boy," said someone, far too loudly.

Yuuno paused for a moment, waiting for the spike of pain to fade slightly. Blearily, he looked to the counter, and saw Chrono standing next to the coffee maker. "Thought you were off chasing the bad guys."

"We lost their trail late yesterday. I'll say this much for whoever's in command over there, he held them together." Chrono dug another mug out of the cupboard and poured, handed Yuuno the steaming cup. "I brought my squadron back, checked in with the CSP, and they told me to report to Havelok, and that she was down here."

His caffeine levels rising out of the danger zone after a hearty gulp, Yuuno said, "She is, somewhere. They've got her talking to all sorts of politicos right now, at least until we get a proper ambassador here." He paused, his brain slowly starting up. "A few of the Bradeson ships made controlled-crashes Earthside, and they've been scooped up by various armies and navies. We offered to help clean those up, but they politely refused."

"Figure they'll be taken apart and examined under microscopes within the week?"

"Absolutely. Tokyo authorities have already seized more or less all of the wrecked gear from the attack here, too." He took another drink, finishing off the mug. "I suspect they're going to be pushing hard to figure things out."

"Getting attacked by aliens tends to do that. Still, they've had spaceflight for fifty-odd years now, and they still haven't put manned missions beyond their own moon. I don't think they're going to have anything serious for a couple decades."

Caffeine starting to cut through the hangover, Yuuno cast a small healing charm on himself as he got another cup. "I think you're underestimating what these people can do when they put their minds to it. Their space tech hasn't moved much because nobody's really throwing money at it. I'll bet you anything that's about to change."

"A valid point." There was a moment of silence as both men pondered this, then Chrono asked, "What happened to you, anyway?"

Yuuno smiled ruefully. "In the big battle, I managed to rescue several groups of JSDF soldiers, and helped them take out one of those big walkers. Tied it down with Binding spells, and some nut jammed two kilos of something called C-4 into one of its plasma cannons. The pilot tried to fire anyway and it misfired rather spectacularly. Anyway. One of the squads I rescued heard we were staying groundside and tracked me down to, and I quote, 'buy you a drink in thanks.' One drink became a couple drinks, then a few more squads turned up in the bar and it became several drinks. The last thing I remember is singing karaoke with a bunch of infantry, then waking up in my room here. Damned if I know how I got back."

Chrono smirked. "Any strange tattoos?"

"Didn't get that drunk, thankfully." The two shared a chuckle.

"How did the fight groundside go? I had my hands full up top."

"It was rough. They're still sifting rubble for casualties. The heaviest fighting was near the Imperial Palace, which seems to have made it through in decent shape. I was mostly in town, though. Skirmishes all over the place, lots of JSDF, police and partisans."

"Partisans?"

"That's probably not the right word. I'm not a military type, after all. Civilians taking up arms, but not part of a militia. Truth to tell I think most of the ones I found were Yakuza or something. They were better armed than most of the police."

* * *

Hellboy watched a bunch of engineers wrangle a half-destroyed mech onto the back of a tank recovery vehicle. He shook his head. _Well, this is one tech race America's probably gonna lose. The Japanese are the world's kings of reverse engineering._

"I'd pay good money to be a fly on the wall when they take that thing apart," said a familiar voice.

Hellboy glanced behind him. "Hey, blondie. Probably shouldn't be surprised to see a Langley girl here."

"No," said the woman as she walked up beside him, one arm in a sling. "They're bringing in more agents already to check things out. I'm here on... other business."

"Ah. They do give you interesting jobs, don't they? What name you going by these days?"

"Eda."

"That sounds almost normal compared to what they usually come up with. Hell, I am _not_ looking forward to dealing with the jurisdictional clusterfuck this is gonna turn into. BPRD's sending in a proper team, CIA and FBI are already on the ground. I saw Fox and Dana earlier, they came in on a red-eye."

"Everyone's here. I've seen MI6, BND, SISMI, Mossad, ASIS, SVR, CSIS... It's a regular spook convention. Any bets on how this is gonna fall out?"

"Nope. I ain't got a clue. Gonna be real interesting to watch, though."

----------------

Revy caught up with her a few minutes later. "Hey Eda, we gotta get our shit together. Balalaika wants to skip town."

"Too many police?"

"Among other things." The two friends walked for most of a block in silence. "So," began Revy, "Why is the nun on speaking terms with a demon?"

"What, a girl isn't allowed to check out the competition?"

------------------

Makoto Kino shrugged her backpack into a slightly less uncomfortable position as she left the school grounds. Of all the places they could wind up sending her while they rebuilt the Juuban high school, they picked Furinkan. All the Inner Senshi, save Rei, had wound up down here, and the place was almost as gonzo as its reputation implied.

She'd spotted a few old friends from her martial arts days, but hadn't had a chance to really talk to anyone – between a hundred-odd temporary transfer students and the antics of the regulars(who _had_ to be playing things up for the benefit of the newcomers, she desperately hoped. The place _couldn't _be that insane all the time) the entire place was crazy busy. Or perhaps just plain crazy. The jury was still out on that count.

Still, things were looking up. Repairs to the city were well under way, and Usagi was out of the hospital. Her reaction to learning about her involuntary haircut was about what they'd expected, though she seemed to be dealing with it okay once she got used to the idea. She wasn't quite back to the picture of health, but she was getting there.

The others were eager to get back to Juuban – Ami to get started on her homework, Minako and Usagi simply to get home. Makoto let them go, preferring to wander a bit. She hadn't been down to this prefecture in a while. And, well, she wanted to take some time to think. It had been a busy week.

In part she was thinking about the battle, and what they'd managed. In part, she was thinking about what was being done now in response – massive international attention on Japan and various world leaders opening a dialog with the TSAB. Outrage from both the religious and scientific communities with the revelations about magic's existence and utility – quite possibly the first time both groups had _ever _agreed on something.

But mostly, she was thinking about the Senshi.

Oh, they were mostly okay. Other than Usagi none of them had been seriously injured, and they'd saved a lot of lives – saved the day and their city. But the damage all around quietly mentioned that they'd come almost too late. But they'd pulled it off, and looked damn good doing it. She would cherish the look on Setsuna's face when they tore up that platoon for years.

Of course, the Outers were trying hard to get themselves a shot at training on Mid-Childa now, a chance they were probably going to get. That would probably restore the Senshi's balance of power back to where it was. That didn't really sit well with her, though admittedly a fair chunk of her dislike of the idea came from a small, petty part of her soul.

There had to be something she could do, to keep from being overtaken... She'd have to think about it.

------------------

Feinting a high punch and setting up for a low, sweeping kick, Shampoo flew at Akane in the Tendo Dojo. The Japanese girl fell for the feint, but managed – barely – to dodge her attack and reply with one of her own. The two battled back and forth across the floor, neither managing any real advantage over the other. On the sidelines, Ukyo shouted encouragement while Ranma shouted advice to both fighters. Nabiki leaned against the wall, trademark smirk in place, but her eyes giving lie to the supposed lack of attention she was paying to their techniques.

Finally, Shampoo managed to land a hefty kick to Akane's midsection, sending the other girl flying. She managed to recover her balance in midair, sticking the landing, but Shampoo was already close enough to follow up and press her back. Finally, Akane's heel whacked into the wall as she fell back, and she found herself with Shampoo's fist poised directly over her throat. With an annoyed grunt, she yielded. The two exchanged bows.

"My turn," said Ukyo as she walked to the center of the Dojo. Shampoo and Akane exchanged glances; with the slightest of nods Shampoo gave this match to Akane, and the lethal chef squared off against the skilled one. She watched from the sidelines, tuning out the mostly good-natured jeers the two fighters tossed back and forth along with their blows, as well as Ranma's suggestions and advice. She had a lot of thinking to do.

The Amazon way was in many respects a simple one. When one had a goal, one pursued it, and that was, more or less, that. Her goal was Ranma. Akane and Ukyo were obstacles to that goal. She'd had several chances, during the fighting, to make those obstacles go away, and with the perfect cover story, to boot. Oh, she'dve had to kill Konatsu at the same time to eliminate any witnesses, but that didn't really bother her. She didn't care much about the kunoichi.

Still, there was the small mater of winning and surviving the battle. At the start, their backs made awfully tempting targets, but she held off on killing them for the pragmatic reason that they truly did need all the help they could get to beat back the invaders. Tokyo wasn't her city, but it had been her home for years, and she'd grown rather fond of the place. So she'd do what she could to help save it, but wouldn't pass up a good opportunity if one arrived once the end was no longer in doubt. But as the battle wore on...

As the battle wore on, Akane and Ukyo's backs were looking less and less tempting as targets went. They had worked together well, and she had gained a new respect for their capabilities. When she'd been hurt, they did not hesitate to aid her, and when the battle ended, the three rivals had come to an unspoken agreement to let their... ceasefire... continue. What it developed into at this point remained to be seen, but for the moment, they could agree to training together and being otherwise civil.

Her beloved Ranma had seemed amused by the idea, and was doing a fine job of instruction. Male or not, he knew how to fight better than any she'd met save the Elders. She could do far worse than to train under him. And perhaps she could turn this to her ultimate purposes – he respected skill, and if hers improved it should also improve her odds of gaining his favor. Even if it didn't, she'd still be a better martial artist from the experience. Great-Grandmother approved, though she wouldn't say why.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the _shfff_ of someone sliding open the dojo's door. Kasumi stood in the doorway.

"Ranma, there are two young women asking to see you."

Instantly all three fiances bristled, and Ranma started. "Uh, okay. Take a break, I'll go see what this's about."

The three rivals waited perhaps half a second after Ranma left the dojo before following, Nabiki in their wake, to observe this conversation. Each had grudgingly accepted the others paying court to Ranma, but nothing in their agreement made provision for the safety of others...

------------------

Ranma was aware that he'd been followed – the girls were good with stealth but they couldn't hide their ki – and resolved to do his best to not stick his foot in his mouth. The fact that all three of them were on speaking terms made his life a lot more peaceful than it normally would be, and he hoped to keep it that way. Kasumi directed him to the living room, where he saw the two visitors.

"Hello, Ranma."

"Hey, Makoto, and, uh, Rei, right?"

"Right."

The two Senshi were sipping tea – say what you would about Kasumi, she was never a poor host – and seated by the shogi board. Ranma plopped down halfway across the room from them. "So. What brings you two here?"

Makoto said, "We're looking to do a little training. We've gotten better training with Nanoha-"

Ranma held up a hand for silence. "Uh, before you go on... we kinda have an audience."

Makoto shrugged. "I trust Kasumi."

"And I trust her judgement," said Rei, nodding towards her friend.

"Uh..." Ranma was trying to figure out how to mention the others without getting one or more fiance mad enough to pound on him.

Kasumi bailed him out. "I think what Ranma is talking about is my sisters and our other guests."

There was a muttered curse from where the girls were hiding, then the four of them walked into the room. Akane, Ukyo, and Shampoo looked slightly confused and a bit angry. Nabiki just smirked. "Ranma, who are these girls?" asked Akane.

_Hoooo boy..._ Ranma thought. _This is gonna end badly._

Makoto saved him. "You all helped in the battle?"

There was a collective blink from the fiances.

Nabiki said, "These three did, but I know already."

"Now I'm _really_ curious," muttered Ukyo.

"Good enough for me," said Makoto. "We're two of the Senshi. Jupiter and Mars."

There were two seconds of stunned silence, broken by Nabiki's "I love it when I'm right."

After a brief bit of fangirlish squeeing from Akane, the group settled down some. "So anyway, you mentioned somethin' about trainin'?" asked Ranma.

"Yes. So we trained for a while under Nanoha and it's worked out well. Now, the Outer Senshi are setting up to do the same."

"Makes sense."

"Oh, no question. Still, when the Outers first showed up they were pretty nasty about how much better they were than us, so coming back from training more powerful than them was a really, really nice feeling."

Ranma nodded slowly. "An' yer thinkin' that you don't wanna let them get on top again, right?"

"More or less," said Rei. "It's mostly a friendly rivalry sort of thing."

"Straight martial arts would definitely help, I guess, but yer talkin' about some serious power. I ain't seen ya in action, Rei, but I have seen Makoto an'... well..."

"We're good by normal standards, but not by Nerima standards."

"...Yeah. That."

"Well, what we were thinking was to combine our magic with the martial arts and work from there."

"Wait. You want me to help you come up with some kinda hybrid magic/martial arts style? It'd never work. I ain't a mage, an' I don't know squat about magic." He paused, eyes unfocusing. "I mean, developin' some entirely new style that I can't even use half of..."

The two Senshi exchanged smirks. Rei said, "Well, if you don't think you can do it..."

"Gimmie a couple days ta think on it," Ranma interrupted quickly. "Might be able ta come up with somethin.'" His mind raced, everything he knew about magic galloping alongside everything he knew about the martial arts, looking for ways to combine the disciplines. It would be a hell of a challenge. But he liked challenges.

Author's Afterword.

First off, I'd like to thank the guys who helped me hash out the basic plot. Bido-kun, Nakor_Bluerider, Legionkl, and Nanya were all invaluable here. I'd also like to throw a shout to Vehrec for helping me fill out some of the holes in my Sailor Moon knowledge. Any flaws or mistakes are still mine, of course, but their assistance helped smooth things out a bit.

I came up with the basic plot of Journey about a week after finishing Grand Tour. It went without a title for quite some time(the outline sat on my desktop as 'crackfic2notes' for months) as I am really bad with names. I fiddled with the plot some during that timeframe, but it didn't really go anywhere. A little research was done, and that lead to parts of the plot being discarded and other parts being fleshed out some. I kept meaning to get started, kept putting it off. It was easier to not put in the effort... I work graveyards and thus am damned tired after work.

I was prompted to get started by a short but intense bout of depression. I decided that a good way to claw my way out of said depression was to _do_ something with my spare time, and that the best way to keep myself doing that something was to post it. I'm a total sucker for attention at times, the reviews kept me going.

Overtiredness, a lingering bout with illness, family drama, and severe writers block complicated things later on in the story, made worse by my lack of a buffer. Still, I got it done, and that counts for something, no?

Onto the story itself, and a little rambling. My god did I commit a lot of the cardinal sins of fanfiction... fannon, building on fannon, OCs all over the place, timeline issues, horribly inconsistent update schedule... I think the story still works, but damn. I decided to go with OCs for the baddies simply because I wanted to avoid another round of the 'X could NEVER beat Y' syndrome that Grand Tour suffered from(and admittedly, I deserved some of it). The DRB started life as a very nebulous concept – the description of them in the first version of my notes was simply 'mirror universe TSAB'. They retained some aspects of that – in honor of Mirror Spock most every male DRB character wound up with a goatee. But I struggled a bit in getting a real grip on the characters – initially they were too like their inspirations to make it interesting to myself. I'm not sure what struck my fancy to throw Rule 63 at them, but it gave me the spark to start fleshing them out a bit. In the process a bit of Honorverse crept in as well, as I'd been re-reading that series at work at the time. So Admiral Kallson is Evil63'd Honor Harrington, while Schwarze is Evil63'd Nanoha. Togo, of course, is Nimitz, though if the familiar and the treecat ever met, I would not be betting on the familiar.

The plot worked due to several happy accidents in Grand Tour – when writing that story I wasn't really thinking of where things would go beyond a somewhat nebulous ending. A minor, offhand mention of 'Mages in Whales' established that Negi and co could be in this mashed up 'verse, though I never did much with it. This time around, I seriously considered having Ranma and Negi meet(through the ever hilarious method of Negi miscasting something and blowing off GirlRanma's clothes) but then remembered that earlier plot points, namely the story taking place over summer break so the Inners could be off on Mid-Childa, put the kibosh on that, as Negi and his harem would be off in the magical world having tournament arcs and meeting Jack Rackam and such. I still wanted to do _something _with them, and while pondering the DRB's motives(they ain't doing this to help Beryl get her revenge, after all) hit upon the idea of having them go after the giant magic tree at Mahora Academy. Eva having tea and going apeshit on some poor unfortunates who actually made it onto the school grounds was a nice bonus. I quite like Eva.

The title, Journey, was another consequence of my general difficulty in naming things. I thought it sort of worked in a few ways, first to continue the 'theme', such as it was, from the first story, and as a metaphor. The journey of life, as Ranma opined to Hotaru way back in chapter six. The metaphor gets a bit strained, but I think it works on some level; the characters all grow and change a bit. Nabiki softens a bit, Ranma learns a bit more about his limitations and how to deal with them, the Outers do the same... it doesn't work as well as I'd first hoped it would, but as an off the cuff, "Well shit, I need to give it _some_ kinda name if I'm gonna post it today" sort of thing, I think it's okay.

One of the hardest parts of working with a character like Ranma is that it's not hard to push him into Boring Invincible Hero/Mary Sue status(yes, I know, for a male character it's more properly Gary Stu, but with Ranma an exception can be made), both of which are a pain in the ass to work with at best and story killers at worst. This is a case where I _wasn't_ helped by the prior story, as I'd established him working on the ability to fly through most of Grand Tour, and that he'd cracked it at the very end. Cracked it with a controlled hover. That implied a great deal of mastery... which was a little too good to start him with for what I wanted in Journey. I tried to portray his flight abilities in this story as a little cruder, sort of like Cannonball in the earlier _New Mutants_ arcs. I'm not sure how well it came through in the text, to be honest.

I also had Ranma work out a few variants on existing moves, and do some rapid-fire tactical thinking. It has been pointed out by a few readers that he doesn't lose a single fight in the entire story. And that's true, though as a counterpoint I'd like to say that he doesn't exactly win all of those fights, either. And he gets the shit beat out of him several times, as well.

Developing an improved fighting style for Akane was an interesting mental exercise as well. At first, I'd thought to move her more or less in the same general direction as Ranma, simply less refined. But as I developed the plot and thought things through, that seemed less satisfactory. Thinking about the character, my demented mind stumbled on her habit of pulling baka mallets out to chastise Ranma/Kuno/whoever has most recently offended her, and ran with it. That's why the mallet handed off to Konatsu vanished: baka mallets are for girls to use, not guys. At least, that's how my strange brain thought it through.

The Black Lagoon part was product of something I dropped early in Grand Tour – the idea of Happi winding up in Roanapur and Hilarity Ensuing. The idea of Shenhua being a secret Chinese Amazon was, well, my first thought about the character watching her debut in Black Lagoon- she's using swords and throwing knives, and she's keeping up with _Revy_? Damn. The dress and heavily butchered English also reminded me of Shampoo, and thus the notion was stuck in my head.

Writing this was a bit of a struggle, partially due to just how busy I've been at work and the ridiculously tiring nature of working the graveyard shift, as well as some life drama and several encounters with the dreaded monster known as Writers Block. The story was also more complex than Grand Tour, which didn't help. My World of Warcraft addiction reared its ugly head a few times as well, though I managed to shake it off. Four weeks clean and counting.

It took me most of a month to write the final battle scene alone. It was monstrously complicated, with too many factions doing too many different things, and at one point it hit roughly 22000 words and just didn't work. Some hefty editing and several rewrites of scenes helped make it slightly less unwieldy, but it's still a bit long. I'll admit I'm not perfectly happy with it right now, but I can't really figure out how to 'fix' it from its current point. At a rough guess, I threw out almost as many words worth of writing as are in the finished version. For one thing, in the draft version the space battle was much more developed, with several more characters appearing. I wound up tearing out almost all of it, leaving only the parts needed to tell the rest of the story, for two reasons: 1) 80% of it was OCs duking it out, which struck me as poor form in the climax of a fanfiction, and 2) the thought occurred that one does not normally read Ranma ½ /Sailor Moon crossovers for epic, Weberian Space Opera. That said, if I have the time I might take the draft space scenes, clean them up a little, and post them as some kind of Omake here for anyone who's interested.

This isn't the end of the saga. At some point, I intend to continue the _other_ half of Grand Tour's plot, looking into how things develop on the Trek side, and possible consequences for the Wars verse, and the Slayers, and so on. I also have a glimmering of an idea or two for this half of the plot. But it'll probably be a while before I post up another tale in this saga. I have other writing projects to work on, other things to do, sleep to catch up on.

It's been a hell of a ride so far. Thanks for joining me on it.

-DrunkenGrognard


End file.
